Instruments of Manipulation
by Mizudoriko
Summary: Sometimes, life gives him existential crises. Other times, it drowns him in paint and toxic fumes only for him to wake up in a hospital of a fictional world. Then he realizes he'd somehow hijacked the body of a canon character who got killed by Sakura and shit just got real. All he wanted to do was finish the final project of his art major. Sasori did not sign up for this insanity.
1. Artist's Dilemma

**I own my idea, not Naruto.**

* * *

He supposes that there were better ways to go, because honestly, how many people would die via drowning in paint?

Apparently, he does.

In his defense, he was extremely sleep deprived and procrastinating heavily on an art project that he needed to turn in the very next day. This project also coincidentally had his entire art major hinging off of it.

It was also three in the morning.

There was never a time that he cursed his fatal procrastination issues. Especially since his procrastination issues turned out to be _literally_ fatal.

Funny how that worked out, huh?

The combination of toxic fumes from the various open paint cans and him being literally dead on his feet caused him to pass out into one of those various cans of paint he had lying next to the canvas. That was apparently enough to kill him. Well, he's assuming that he's dead since the last thing he remembers is the paint filling his screaming lungs. He feels that his chances of survival from that incident are pretty low. It's not as if anyone will check on him for the next few hours.

Now, all he can see is….blaring orange? What?

His knee jerk reaction is to move and open his eyes, to his overwhelming surprise, he's capable of doing both.

'_I thought I was dead? Well, _hey_, I'm not going to complain. Now all I need to do is just convince the hospital staff to let me leave so I can finish my_—'

"He's awake!"

He jerks his head towards the sudden sound, concern blossoming immediately because the person who spoke looks like they walked straight out of some sort of live action version of Naruto.

The Suna hitai ate kinda gave it away. He's got to give them credit though, the costume is really well done and the scars even look real—Oh dear God, they _are_ real. Well, they must be extremely dedicated? He just wants to know why they're in the same room as him and where the nurses are so he can check out.

Or he's delusional.

Yeah, that sounds about right, he's still high off of the fumes.

"Sasori?"

The new voice caused him to turn away from the eccentric "actor" only for him to be faced with someone he could only call the living clone of Chiyo.

'_Wow, I want to see this movie when it comes out, they have really good actors. Kudos to the director. That and it's high time I got back to binge-watching Naruto...just...after I finish my project.'_

Seeing that the situation is getting interesting he decides to wait, he has a viable excuse for turning in his project late...the professor likes him, that should count for something, right? Right?! He really hopes that he doesn't have to retake the entire course, that would suck. Big time.

Four years down the drain.

Besides, she said Sasori and he wants to see what the actor for them looks like.

"Sasori, are you alright?"

Suddenly, the situation doesn't seem so amusing anymore, because the Chiyo look-alike is looking directly at him when she said that.

For the first time since he woke up, he realizes that something is horribly, _horribly wrong._ The fuzziness in his head clears as panic and adrenaline sets in because _something isn't right and it's him._ Looking down, he sees small childish fingers clutching the hospital issued blankets tight enough for the knuckles to turn white. These are not his fingers, these are not the fingers of an art major college student. His hands are supposed to be calloused, slightly cracked, his nails are supposed to be chipped from the pottery wheel—where are the paint stains? His hands for the past two years had been permanently stained with paint.

His beloved paint, what about his paintings?

Calm down. Stop. Hyperventilating.

Breathe in.

Out.

In.

Hold.

Count to ten.

Exhale.

Wait, that's not right...no, don't think about that.

He focuses on his breathing, vaguely aware that the Chiyo actress rushes toward him in alarm while the other actor in the room hurries out of the room calling for a nurse.

Finally unable to take it anymore, he pushes his way out of the unwanted embrace, stumbling onto the cold sterile floors.

_Oh, the pattern is nice, it's a variation of windmill combined with a basket weave._

He barely registers that he doesn't have any shoes on, just that he is much, _much_ shorter than he is supposed to be.

Somehow, he manages to choke his next words out, voice soft and small and—and so very alien,

"Ba-bathroom?"

Chiyo's—he realizes that this is no longer a show, but if he is right then-then he's...he doesn't want to finish that thought—concern lessens somewhat as she gets off of the hospital bed, gesturing for him to follow.

He follows her, ignoring her concerned glances back at him

They reach the bathroom without much fanfare, he goes in, opening the door mind still in an uproar. Seeing the mirror hanging above a sink, he makes a beeline for it.

Gazing back at him are hazel eyes, messy red hair, and a face that is most certainly _not_ his. He used to be one of those people whose face no one ever remembers, average and plain.

But this one, this one certainly won the genetic lottery because there is no way eyes are supposed to be able to be that large, nevermind that they're half closed.

Huh, how large can they get if he opens them all the way?

Ooooh, bad idea, he looks unhinged.

Slapping his cheeks in an attempt to snap himself out of his tangent, he breathes out a sigh.

'_I am so, so dead.'_

Because if he's right—he's pretty sure he's right—then he somehow became an anime character of all things and one that gets killed off to boot. Even if he does get killed off somewhere in his midlife crisis, there is no way the 'Must-become-a-puppet-because-dear-lord-my-face-just-spawned-a-wrinkle' phase is _not_ a mid-life crisis.

'_Am I dissing myself? Wait, technically we are different people right? Canon? Oh no, CANON!'_

He's coping surprisingly well, the new chibi face might have something to do with it.

'_But I don't wanna die again, besides, stabbed to death by puppets is super melodramatic…'_

As he is pondering—gushing, he's gushing—his new face and identity, Chiyo knocks on the door,

"Sasori, are you alright?"

Well...he forgot that his new grandmother existed, a prime example of what not to do when you wake up in someone else's body. Especially if you wake up an Uchiha, because you never know, the massacre might be just around the corner. Which is why he is _eternally_ glad that his character only has one family member left and no parents, it'll be significantly easier to adapt. Parents will know immediately that something is wrong, but from what he remembers of the anime, Chiyo never really knew much about her grandson, or maybe she was just being distant?

Wait, are his parents still alive at this point?

When did Sasori's parents become _his?_ He has perfectly functioning ones. Oh wait, maybe when he _woke up in someone else's body. _

He shoos those thoughts into a filing cabinet in his mind, he'll ponder them later, because he suspects if he takes too long to answer his grandma will literally break down the bathroom door. After walking towards the door and turning the knob, he hesitantly opens it, peering up at the elderly woman.

What comes out of his mouth next is entirely unintentional,

"I forbid you to murder me, Grandma."

Inwardly he's freaking out because that was _not_ what he meant to say, he keeps his face carefully blank as Chiyo's features flash through a multitude of emotions—confusion, horror, sorrow, and funnily enough, exasperation.

He wonders if such statements coming from the previous Sasori were normal occurrences.

"Sasori, where did you get _that_ idea?"

He pauses, tilting his head in thought, it's not as if he can just say, "Yeah, I'm not actually your grandson but I do know that you kill him in the future with puppets of his mother and father because karma is like that," because that will go over _so _well.

He settles for,

"Because I might make you mad with what I'm going to say next?"

Chiyo, smiles at him, joints creaking while crouching down so that he's eye level,

"I promise not to be mad."

He lets go of the door, and looks down at his chubby fingers, bringing them together in what he hopes looks like hesitancy and guilt.

Actually no, to hell with it, he's done with life right now,

"I seem to have developed a fascinating case of amnesia. Though I would be more enthused if only it weren't so inconvenient."

He turns his head back up just in time to watch horror and even more sorrow war their way across her face.

"You don't...remember?"

He shakes his head.

They stand there in silence while his statement sinks in.

"You don't remember anything? Anything at all?"

He shuffles his feet a little, fidgeting under her hopeful gaze because _now_ is the moment guilt sets in,

"...no."

She looks like her world just shattered and he winces internally.

'_It's better this way, at least I probably won't be betraying and leaving the village. There is no way anyone is going to make me touch Akatsuki with a forty-two million feet pole.'_

"Ah...I see," Chiyo doesn't look like she's seeing much of anything, staring blankly off into space, "Come, I'll get check you out of the hospital and we'll go home."

She stands up, still trancelike, and walks down the hall, this time not bothering to see if he's following. Chiyo doesn't appear to be computing anything, hopefully, she wouldn't be so negligent normally? He scrambles after her, hastily shutting the bathroom door behind him and slipping his small hand into her loose ones. Chiyo snaps out of her shock, turning her head down towards him in askance,

"If you fill me in, perhaps I'll remember?"

Her eyes widen a little before softening, she gives him a shaky smile,

"Of course."

Ugh, now he feels worse than dirt for leading her on like that because there's no way he'll remember something that didn't even happen to him. And everything he's done up to this point has only been centered around him, with barely any consideration for his grandmother.

He remembers reading something about Sasori somewhere online, 'Why become a criminal and disappoint your grandma when you could have been an awful babysitter?'

'_I just hope I don't actually get stuck with the Sand sibs, that would be a whole 'nother level of chaos.'_

* * *

**So I had a plan...a perfectly good one, one that includes focusing on the few fics I have.**

**And then this happened.**

**Do I regret it? No.**

**Will I ask myself why later? Definitely.**

**Do I know where this is going? Ask me a few years later and I might have an answer.**

**Anyway! Thanks for reading!**


	2. Artist's Assimilation

The Compound—because there is no way it could be called a house—is decidedly empty when he arrives with Chiyo. There are rows and rows of succulents, some bunched around a pond. Sasori is torn between whether he should commend his grandmother for managing to keep a pond in the desert or pointing out that it's a horrible waste of water. He does neither of these things as he is guided in by his grandmother through the compound, pointing out the different rooms and their purposes, occasionally expounding upon their personal history as well.

They arrive at his room, it's...bland, to say the least.

It seems that his previous self was a neat freak and had an intense hatred for things called furniture. His room literally only contains his futon, some drawers for clothes, a closet, and a desk.

There is _nothing_ else.

This has _got to go_, the first thing he's going to do after he gets his hands on some paint and go crazy on the walls.

It will be glorious.

If his tiny new hands have the dexterity to pull it off, that is. Otherwise, it'll just look like a six-year-old decided to paint his walls.

"Grandma?" he tugs at her sleeve, "Where are my parents?"

What he really wants to ask is if they've kicked the bucket yet, but because that'll go over _so well_, he's trying to be subtle. Which he is probably failing at because surveying the sad state of his room has no correlation with the existence of parents.

Chiyo seems stuck between trying to say something and not wanting to say it, looks like his parents are dead then. Considering the previous Chiyo in the anime did not ever tell her grandson about the demise of his parents. That caused him to have severe issues. Severe issues is an understatement.

At least this time he'll actually attempt at being something other than a recluse and stay mostly sane. The first part shouldn't be too hard he just has to force people to be his friends and hope that they're the ones who have a tendency to drag him out of his house. But he's not sure that he's even mostly sane now, much less later on after he's killed a bunch of people in the name of Suna and all that ridiculousness.

Oh yeah, he's going to have to kill people in the future. _Fun._ Maybe he can figure out a formula for how much sanity is lost per kill. He would if he actually likes math, unfortunately, he hates the subject with a burning passion so there will be no formulas anytime soon.

Sudden movement turns his attention back to his grandmother, she kneels in front of him, eye-level and for once seeming her age,

"Sasori, your parents...they didn't come back from their mission...and I don't think they will."

Well, this was a surprise, Chiyo never did this in canon...did she?

Shit, the last time he watched Naruto was two years ago and not all of the plot points or Kishimoto's messed up timeline are seared into his brain.

Well, he's royally screwed.

'_Congratulations, Self, you have unlocked hidden dialogue and a new route.'_

He mentally berates his brain for adding a game reference, the revelation of his now-deceased parents is no laughing matter. But he's not sad. He isn't. He tries to dredge up some sort of sorrow, but there is nothing.

These parents of his...they are strangers to him, they weren't "_his" _parents, they were Sasori's. And yet, in a twisted way, he _is_ Sasori, therefore they _are his_ parents. They are his parents yet not at the same time, it's confusing.

He opts for the healthier route of accepting that he doesn't have any relation to those strangers and that he shouldn't feel as if he's obligated to be sad about their demise. He certainly doesn't feel _happy_ about it, just numb in the sense that these people could have been important to him, they could have been so much _more_. But now they're stuck as two-dimensional people, forever just characters with no real depth or identity. These people were supposed to be his parents, while he doesn't feel sad that they died, there is still an underlying sense of regret.

He'll go visit their graves when he has the chance to apologize profusely for whatever he did to their poor son.

Which is...him right now?

Sasori adds identity crises to his list of issues that may or may not need to be fixed, he'd like to have some semblance of sanity, thank you very much.

The real question is why Chiyo is taking all of this so calmly and not questioning anything. Just what did he do to himself that excuses _amnesia?_

"Grandma, how did I end up in the hospital?"

Chiyo purses her lips,

"You tripped."

Sasori's face blanks,

"Crazy Grandma says _what_ now?"

Chiyo laughs, patting her grandson lightly on the head,

"You tripped and fell down the stairs because you rolled on the paint brushes I told you to not leave everywhere," She gives him a stern look, "And I was right, look what you did."

Sasori scoffs, he'd been expecting something more...impressive. But he did also die because he drowned in paint, so it's not as if he has anything to say about stupid life choices.

"Pathetic, next time I will make sure it's because I fell on my head from trying to roof jump."

"No! You will not purposefully endanger yourself!" Grandma doesn't appear to be very pleased with his declaration.

He supposes she's justified, self-harm isn't exactly a joking matter...but it's also his main supply for humor. Sasori isn't suicidal nor does he hate himself...okay maybe he hates himself a little, but not enough to go out of his way to harm himself.

He just has a very...bad sense of humor.

It offends people sometimes.

"I will attempt to keep my sorry self out of trouble, Grandma. I have another question, how old am I?"

Chiyo sighs, but lets him change the subject,

"You are five."

Huh, no wonder he's so tiny. From a college student to a toddler, what a role reversal.

And he has also used up his people meter for the day, social interaction beyond this point will end disastrously.

"Okay, I'll go to bed now, Grandma."

She nudges him towards the futon and closes the door to his room, but not before she reminds him,

"Perhaps that would be for the best, you are still recovering. We can continue the tour of the compound at a later date. Sleep well."

The door shuts and he's left to his own devices. He's not going to sleep, especially since he isn't tired and there's planning to do. Reaching a hand up, he feels his head for any injuries, clearly, he injured himself severely enough to excuse amnesia...and maybe death?

Sasori still isn't sure why he's _here_ and not home in some hospital. He's almost certain that he died, what if the previous Sasori died too?

"But...that isn't canon. Canon Sasori lived, well, until Chiyo murdered him and he got resurrected later, but that's not the point because there's no way I'll allow _that_ to happen."

He shudders, not dying is on the top of his list of priorities right now.

"The real question isn't _how_ I'm here or even _why_, but what I will do now."

He doesn't remember much of canon Sasori, especially his younger years, beyond the fact that he was a prodigy who later delved into immoral practices and...left Suna?

Was that even what happened?

Well, Sasori definitely left Suna, the circumstances aren't exactly clear, but he was around his twenties when he did so. Somewhere after that he assassinated the Third Kazekage, made him a puppet, and made a bunch of other people his puppets. Perhaps not necessarily in that order either. He definitely killed a bunch of people minding their own business, and then Konan happened.

And then Akatsuki, and after that Orochimaru.

And then...Deidara?

After Deidara, he destroys some poor nation, the Land of This? Or was it the Land of That?

"Well, this is nice, I remember practically nothing about who I'm supposed to be, the past or the future."

He...destroys some random nation and kidnaps Gaara with Deidara, Gaara ends up dying and so does he when Chiyo stabs him through the heart.

Shit, he got killed by _Sakura._

Sakura who became a _meme_ for her uselessness.

"Am I really that pathetic? A reputation for literally _staining the sand red_ and I get killed by a fifteen-year-old girl who can't stop chasing after her Sasuke-kun? I was an S-rank missing-nin and I get killed by _Sakura?_"

Fine, he'll admit that Sakura isn't useless, she has...had? Potential. She had potential, she wasn't completely useless, but her determination to marry Sasuke is very annoying.

Very, very annoying.

Kishimoto, write better female characters.

What about all the fanfiction shipping Sakura with him? Okay, maybe he read a few of them, but they weren't particularly good because...logic doesn't work that way.

Especially now since he _is_ Sasori. Shipping random fictional characters without any logical basis can be excused. But now?

Nope.

Not.

Happening.

"Disgusting. At least I know what to avoid."

But he is _five_, there's more than enough time to plan later. Right now, he has to focus on not dying from stray weapons launched by irresponsible shinobi and fitting in. He'll begin with a thorough examination of his room, this is supposed to be _his_ space, how sad would it be if he can't even adjust to _himself?_

Granted, most people don't wake up with "amnesia" in a different body and in a fictional world filled with death.

But he's always prided himself to be adaptable and down to earth, it takes a lot to phase him. His chronic case of senioritis helps with his general apathy.

"Ha, a five-year-old with the personality of a college student who's dead inside."

He rolls his futon up into a small bundle and pushes it to the wall, from experience, he knows that his room will later end up encroached by his numerous projects, so space will be precious.

Sleep is not _that _important anyway.

With that done, he opens his drawers one by one.

"Paintbrushes...did Chiyo start teaching me puppetry? Or did I already paint?"

Then he sees a small crumpled paper in the corner, he unrolls it to find a message stained by what looks like tears.

_From Haha-ue and Chichi-ue to Sasori._

Oh.

This was a present from his parents. Not his parents? His not-parents?

Well.

He shuts the drawer quickly after he sets the note down carefully and empty out all the paint brushes onto the floor. He'll deal with the emotions attached to the note later.

He's...not in a good state to internalize that part of his identity yet. Especially not after Chiyo just told him about their deaths. It feels like he's intruding on something private.

Sasori isn't Sasori. He's an imposter. A stranger dressed in clothes that belonged to someone else. Someone loved and cared for.

He's...no, it's better this way. He pulls the drawer back open and retrieves the note. The words on it glare back at him mockingly.

_From Haha-ue and Chichi-ue to Sasori._

"I'm sorry for replacing your son. I don't know what happened to him," He takes a deep breath, "But I will try to live his life the best I can."

Sasori gently folds the paper back up and return it to its corner in the drawer. He then moves on to the next drawer full of paper. Some of it is in rolls, others are loose and covered in diagrams. A couple of them are blank.

"Well, I now know that Sasori did start learning about puppets already," He muses, trying to decipher the diagrams and words, "This is also...from them. Haha-ue and Chichi-ue."

Then he grins, the diagrams aren't that hard, maybe for an actual five-year-old, but it has nothing against a five-year-old prodigy with the brain and experience of a college art major student. With the helpful notes in the margins, he'll be able to figure it out in no time.

"I guess that part of canon won't change, but I still will change a lot of it. Just think, Canon Sasori probably never contemplated much about his future as shinobi at five, especially not on new techniques," He places the paper back inside, leaving the blank ones behind, "But I am not canon Sasori and I plan on not dying. Canon Sasori didn't have many friends and was increasingly lonely and bored, I'm used to being a recluse for weeks to finish projects. I'll be bored anyway, why not spend that time working on plans?"

All in all, it would be a better use of his time instead of spending it feeling sorry for himself. By no means does he approve of shinobi parenting techniques—Chiyo, why would you do that to your grandson?—but he's an _adult_ and this works in his favor.

Also, he's totally going to have a better relationship with his grandma, she's practically the last close family member he has left, he doesn't know what relationship he has with his great uncle.

Alright, things are definitely looking up! Puppetry falls under his passion for art, it's a combination of sculpture and...engineering.

Oh god.

There will have to be _math..._and...and..._no. Not math!_

He'll avoid that the best he can, he'll just use his visualizing skills instead...hopefully that'll work.

What else did Canon Sasori do other than puppets? Poison? Plants! Plants are great, plants make great substitutes for human company, he can get a whole bunch of poisonous ones and grow them in his room. Besides, making poisons can be comparable to cooking, right? He's pretty good at cooking.

Hopefully, poison-making is like cooking.

Breath in, breath out, he's _five_, no five-year-old should worry too much about poisons. Well, unless they live in a shinobi village, but he didn't have that Before. Eh, might as well adapt to the mindset, if he wants to live or become anything he'll have to drop his old morals like they're going out of fashion.

Because here? They are totally not fashionable.

Anyway, it's still his first day, he can read the scrolls and stuff later, maybe tomorrow? He shuts the second drawer too, opening the third and last one on the bottom.

This one is filled with paint.

_Paint._

Praise the Deities that might exist.

He found _paint, _even if he didn't have brushes he could still fingerpaint.

He's going to paint his walls _right now, _Chiyo's potential disapproval be damned.

Popping open the first can of blue, he wonders what he should paint on his wall, it's funny how a character known for dying sand red with blood will now be obsessed with the color blue.

Sasori like blue now, it doesn't matter what his previous preferences for colors are, it's not like it will kill someone if he likes blue instead of red. Besides, no one knew if he actually liked red in canon.

His first masterpiece in this new world should be one memorializing the person he used to be. Sasori will change, that is unavoidable and he accepts it with open arms, but that doesn't mean he has to forget. He doesn't have to act like nothing happened or force himself to be someone he isn't. Sasori will just be unapologetically himself and canon will just have to deal.

And it will start with this painting.

The next one should be on his parents. Both pairs, an apology for not being there for them and one for not really being their son.

The final one will be something when he figures out what he wants to paint. Maybe he'll paint the fourth wall too, time will tell.

Wait, what about a galaxy on the ceiling? He'd always wanted to do that and it'll be so _cool!_ He can paint the floors too! Maybe he'll do something about the closet he hasn't looked through yet as well.

"I hope Grandma doesn't murder me when I go wild on that poor wall," Sasori dips a brush in a sky blue, "I am completely unrepentant."

* * *

**An hour later:**

"Sasori? I thought you were...sleeping?"

He turns around to see Grandma in the doorway of his room, her eyes wide and gaping like a fish. Sasori looks down on his paint-covered hands and clothing, oddly content that at least one factor of his life is now normal.

He's absolutely covered in paint, as it should be.

"Hello, Grandma. Look what I did." Sasori gestures with a brush on the wall, purposefully getting more blue paint on himself.

"Sasori."

"Yes, Grandma?" Maybe this was a bad idea, Sasori intimately remembers how this Chiyo is—was?—a formidable kunoichi in her own right.

"You will go bathe _right now._"

"But Grandma, I'm not finished." He's not whining, he's an _adult._

"_Right now_, I'll get you clothes that you can paint in after I lecture you on not getting more paint on yourself than the wall!"

"Right. Okay. Where is the bathroom?" Oh, she's not going to stop him from painting?

"Ah, I forgot you don't remember where that is. This is the second time today I'm showing you a bathroom, huh?"

Perhaps it was just a trick of the light or maybe it was the fumes from his paint…

But he could have sworn a tear slid down his Grandma's weary cheek as a faint relieved smile displaced the deep-set wrinkles around her mouth.

* * *

**I can't decide between making this crack or actually serious or maybe both.**

**Help.**

**Anyway, I was inspired to write more of this. If you're wondering, yes, this new Sasori is basically me but ten times more exasperated with life.**

**(I've always wanted to paint my walls. The random finger-painted abstract art doesn't count.)**

**Edit: So I drew a cover because...art...why not. It didn't exactly turn out to be what I envisioned, but it's Sasori's wall painting shenanigans**


	3. Artist's Emergence

His eyebrow twitches before finally relenting and is pulled into a childish frown with the other one. The clock on the wall continues to count the seconds, minutes, and hours mockingly. What a waste of space, time is a social construct anyway. Sasori glares back at it, willing time to pass faster. He'd underestimated how much time he'd have in his hands after Chiyo rushed off to a Council meeting as soon as they ate breakfast, leaving him to his own devices.

At least she bothered to wake him up and eat with him instead of leaving him in the house all alone without a clue as what happened. Or maybe that was due to his "amnesiac" state, he didn't want to know what life would be like if he didn't "suffer from amnesia".

Which comes to his current predicament:

Sasori is bored.

_Very _bored.

It's not as if he didn't have anything to do, but it's one of those moments that he didn't feel like doing anything. His procrastination and laziness are showing but he doesn't care, it's not as if he has an audience to impress. If he were an actual child, he would have even less to occupy himself with.

Even so, he isn't motivated to do much besides lolling about.

Laying on the floor, he sighs and rests his cheek on the cool surface before hastily removing his face from it due to getting sand on his face.

"I should have known, Suna _is_ very sandy...I wonder if it is possible to eliminate all of the sand on the floor? Copious amounts of sweeping?"

After arriving at the conclusion that _no, _Suna would not be less full of sand even with meticulous sweeping, Sasori rolls his eyes in exasperation. He plops back onto the floor, disregarding the sand sticking to his face uncomfortably.

He has diagrams to analyze and a closet to explore.

But...the effort of moving, he really can't be bothered right now. Suna is _hot_ and he does _not_ like the heat, his body and brain are lethargic and he has a strong urge to fall asleep right here.

He's not going to fall asleep on the _floor_, so in an effort to distract himself, he questions the existence of his other remaining family member,

"Where's my granduncle? His name is...Ebisu? No, that's the random dude from Konoha, he's not even born yet because I know for a fact that I'm older than him by at least ten years. Is it ten years? Less?"

The lack of information is seriously irritating as well as the snail's pace his brain seems to be stuck moving at.

He pushes himself up and brushes sand of his clothes, wandering back up the stairs while watching out for stray brushes. He doesn't know if there are other brushes waiting to in ambush to send him tumbling down the stairs a second time.

Arriving at his room, he pulls the door open to be assaulted by the color blue.

"Ah. Right. I painted my wall."

The last time he saw his room was two hours ago, perhaps he has the memory of a goldfish. Goldfish only remember a couple of seconds at a time, that's why they're so stupid. Stupid enough to eat themselves to death. He's not a goldfish, he won't eat until he dies, no matter how fond of food he may be.

"I will endeavor not to be a goldfish."

Perhaps to an outsider, this comment would seem very out of place, but he's not one to put much weight in other people's opinions as long as they leave his art out of them.

If they question his art they'll have a..._surprise_ coming. Sasori hasn't figured out what the surprise would be, but he'll eventually figure something out.

Upon arriving at his mystery closet, he turns the knob to open the door.

Only to be greeted with...clothes. He's not very sure what he expected. After a more careful examination, he finds a box of tiny puppets. Sasori takes those out before shutting his very boring and disappointing closet.

"At least it didn't lead to Narnia, I don't what I would do if I found my closet to be a gateway to another dimension."

He sets the box down, picking up one of the rudimentary puppets to entertain himself with. After two or three minutes of fiddling with it, he's back to being bored again. There's nothing special about it, a couple of ball sockets, some screws, and an utterly plain head.

Ah, the head, he'll have to fix that.

Standing back up, he pulls open his drawer to find a pen or pencil, when he didn't find any, he grabbed a thin paintbrush and a can of black paint. He returns to his previous position and beheads the puppet, holding the now unattached head firmly between his thumb and forefinger.

"Alright, let's give you a face."

He carefully pokes two dots with a dash underneath.

"Great, you are Mr. Ukki number five."

Sasori sets the head down on to dry, then he returns the can of paint back to its home in his bottom drawer. He was going to leave his brush until he could be bothered to clean it, but then he remembers many brushes from his past, stiff and useless from dried paint. And leaving them out is just asking to forget about them and trip again.

Well, that's just nice, more movement and effort on his part. Groaning, he grabs the brush and carefully walks down the stairs to wash his brush. The kitchen is nice, the sink underneath a window with a row of succulents parading across the sill. As he returns to his room, he realizes that he could have washed the offending brush in the bathroom a little further down the hallway.

Basically, he expended more effort than he needed to.

And that is unacceptable.

"Why aren't there any pens or pencils?!"

Because clearly, the lack of proper drawing utensils is at fault, not his goldfish memory.

He sits down with a huff beside his box of puppets, pulling out another one, he twists the head off. Then the arms. Legs. Leaving the body parts separated, he repeats the action to the rest of the puppets.

It's boring.

He reassembles them.

It's boring.

He takes them apart again.

It's boring.

He puts them in various poses, intact and in pieces.

It's boring.

_It's boring._

Defeated, he decides to entertain himself in other ways. Where physical challenges fail, perhaps a mental one is in order?

"Maybe I should look over the notes in the second drawer."

Putting his puppets back together, Mr. Ukki's paint had dried, he returns them to the closet before removing all the papers in the second drawer. He spends the next four hours reading and taking notes, grateful that college finally taught him how to take proper ones.

He eats an early lunch alone at eleven, Chiyo still hasn't returned.

Sasori continues where he left off and finishes the notes at three in the afternoon.

He sets the last paper down, vaguely aware of a spider skittering across the edge of his vision. On a whim, he catches it.

Perhaps there really is something wrong with him, he'd never been this apathetic before. Especially around spiders, while he could tolerate sharing a habitat with them, any close contact would cause him to shudder. But that is not the case now, he stares dumbly down at the trapped arachnid in his hand.

And then on an uncanny whim, he considers a name,

"Hello, you can be Mr. Ukki number six, Six for short. We wouldn't want you to be confused with Mr. Ukki number five, after all."

The spider in his small hand twitches feebly, he doesn't flinch when it finally bites him.

"Ow."

Sasori sighs,

"I guess we can't be friends then, " He debates the pros and cons of squishing Six before arriving at the conclusion of not wanting to dirty his hands. That would mean spider guts, ewww.

"Goodbye, Six. It wasn't very nice meeting you." With that, he lets his hand fall, Six lands on the ground and jerkily hurried away with an air of desperation.

But that can't be right, bugs don't get desperate.

Sasori stays, watching the spider make its way up his wall into a corner he can't reach with his new, diminutive height.

He tilts his head, considering and pensive,

"Truly fascinating, my personality is slightly different. I wonder if this is a result of…my unusual circumstances." To be someone changed, someone unlike his previous self, the idea is unsettling.

"Maybe it's the shock?" He asks no one in particular, his only audience the spider he'd almost crushed.

He would have continued his small, internal existential crisis, but the door to his room opens, revealing Chiyo and...someone else. Warning bells go off in his brain at the unknown presence, it's familiar...he'd seen them somewhere in his previous life.

Ah, he has an identification for the face now, it's his great uncle.

What was his name again? It wasn't Ebisu.

"Sasori, meet your Ōjii-san, Ebizō. I requested him to come over today." Chiyo introduces her brother cheerfully, giving Ebizō a light elbow when he doesn't respond.

Ah, so that was what his name was, Ebizō. His great uncle appears to be slightly less old than how he looked in canon.

"Ane-ue has informed me of your condition, Dai-oi. I assume you don't remember—" He stops, eyes catching the papers strewn on the floor haphazardly, "—You were reading those?"

Sasori startles at the stiff tone Ebizō's voice had taken upon discovering the mess he made on his floor. It's a good thing his Ōjii-san hasn't noticed the bright blue wall, though it is most likely Ebizō did indeed notice but is ignoring it for the time being. He was a shinobi after all, retired or not.

Maybe Chiyo told her brother about his wall-painting escapade.

"Hai, Jii-sama."

He doesn't know how to address his great uncle. Were they close? Should he be respectful? Or something else? Not knowing how to act bothered Sasori greatly, he's used to knowing things, comfortable with the knowledge of what people expected of him. Now, a death and a world later, he's unbalanced and poorly informed.

He'd have to research more on that later, something else to add onto his growing list of important things to do.

"Maa, Sasori-kun, there's no need to be so formal. Forgive an old man for being overly cautious, I was quite concerned when I heard of your brief sojourn to the hospital," Here, Ebizō gives him an admonishing look, "Do try _not to_ repeat the incident, or the Kazekage would have to be notified of my early death via a heart attack."

Uhhhh…okay? That got dark real fast. It's nice to know Ebizō cares about him? He chooses to not reply and pretend he doesn't see the glare Chiyo pins his great uncle with.

Said old man is definitely also ignoring his sister's clear disapproval by picking up a sheet filled with Sasori's own scribbles. His eyes quickly scan the page, eyebrows rising higher the more he reads,

"Ane-ue, you never told me he was _this_ intelligent."

"What?" Chiyo stops glaring, confused.

"Look at this," Ebizō hands the paper to his sister, Sasori watching the entire exchange warily.

Why do people not take the unspoken "please don't read my stuff without permission" rule seriously? It's the same with his art, there's a reason why none of his friends are allowed to visit his apartment. His...previous friends, they don't exist here so he's friendless now and isn't _that_ a saddening thought?

Chiyo's response is similar to Ebizō's, both not noticing his change in mood,

"Sasori...when did you write this?"

"This morning...or maybe it was the afternoon," He extends a small hand, a silent request to have his note sheet returned. When Chiyo grants his demand, Sasori skims over what he'd written. It's not even nighttime and he's already tired. The new revelation of just how _alone_ he is sucking out all of his determination.

Or perhaps it was the stifling heat that never seems to leave Suna except to be replaced by bone-chilling cold after sunset.

"Ah!" He pronounces when he identified the page, "This was written in the afternoon, the last sheet, actually. It was right before Six's interruption.

He pauses, contemplating his own words,

"Though I don't suppose it is actually an interruption if I had already finished."

"Six?" Chiyo latches onto the unfamiliar name with concern lacing her tone.

"Yes," Sasori points to the spider still residing in its corner with an innocent look, it's better if his grandma doesn't question his strange idiosyncrasies, "That's Mr. Ukki Number Six, he's called Six because it's shorter and less of a mouthful."

"I...see." It is clear that Chiyo does not "see", his grandma wary in her response. Well, he tried to divert her concern, now she's more worried.

"You say you finished them?" Ebizō breaks the awkward silence, faint amusement resding behind his deep-set eyes.

Oh! Finally, something exciting to talk about. Sasori beams back at his great uncle, thankful for the change in topic.

"Yes, I read over the scrolls Haha-ue and Chichi-ue left. I made my own notes to accompany them."

"And you started...today?" Both Chiyo and Ebizō seem surprised at the revelation.

"Yes. To be fair, it did take me over eight hours."

Why are they looking at him like that? What are they thinking? He can't read their expressions.

"E-eight...hours?" Ebizō is silent while Chiyo voices her surprise.

"Yes?"

Chiyo snaps out of her shock,

"Sasori! You mean to say you haven't stopped since I left this morning?!"

He's confused, why would she care so much? It's not as if he hasn't spent days studying and working on projects without—oh. _Sasori_ hasn't concentrated the same amount of time as him—he's not Sasori, yet he is at the same time, isn't that confusing to wrap his head around?—on...anything, really.

Sasori is five, not a senior in college about to graduate.

It isn't logical for any five-year-old to be so focused on something for _eight full hours, _even if they are a prodigy.

Besides, he isn't known as a prodigy at this point, that only happens after he attends the Academy.

Which happens...next year? This year? Sometime soon and it _itches_, so much uncertainty, too little concrete information. How is he supposed to prepare himself for what is to come? To being required to _kill_?

"I'm sorry, Grandma."

He hopes he gives an air of contriteness, even if he doesn't regret the amount of time he consumed learning about puppetry. The subject is absolutely intriguing with the number of applications it can have. He'd already formulated his own ideas about future projects. That and it is his best bet at staying _alive._

"What are you sorry for? Though I would have liked it if you took some breaks in between. It's good to see you so interested in our family craft." Chiyo gives him an indulgent smile, "Isn't that right, Ebizō?"

His great uncle clears his throat awkwardly,

"Yes, of course. I suggest you tutoring him more on the subject, Ane-ue. He clearly shows talent in puppetry."

"That's a great idea! I knew that...well...he'd already been taught a little about the subject by…"

She doesn't finish her sentence. It would seem to mention his parents, even indirectly, is a source of grief for her.

Sasori commits to speaking of his parents as little as possible if more for his grandma's sake rather than his. He doesn't know two of the most important people in his life, therefore feeling very little pain from the loss. Even in his previous life, he hadn't been particularly close to his parents.

Still, it irks the polite part of his mind to so brusquely cut the two out of his life, though they weren't ever actually part of his life. It is obvious that his parents loved and cherished him greatly, it would be rude to overlook that.

Looks like visiting the graves after weaseling the location out of his grandmother is still in order.

"But I have the Council…" Chiyo trails off, conflicted.

"Chiyo, no one else lives in the Compound to watch over him. I can move back, but what will he do all day? Prodigy or not, it isn't healthy for one so young to devote so much time to such things when he should be out playing." Ebizō berates his sister, the usage of her name giving his comment more weight.

"Yes...you are right, Ebizō, especially since in one more year he'll have to…" Like with his parents, Chiyo doesn't finish this sentence either. Is she wary of letting him become a shinobi? Maybe it's because of the war, Sasori suspects her reluctance is still on the account of the death of his parents.

Ebizō doesn't reply, instead, sharing a knowing look with his sister.

"It's decided then. You should move back, Ebizō, I'll try to spend more time here in the Compound," Chiyo contemplates her next words, "Sasori, I believe it's time we started preparing you for the Academy, starting with the basics and puppetry."  
Although he's annoyed at Ebizō moving back in to keep an eye on him, the company would be nice. His great uncle would at the bare minimum be able to answer questions and provide entertainment.

However, it's the promise of training and more knowledge about the world he found himself in that excited him. Finally, his plans can begin to be set into motion.

He plans on not dying, after all.

* * *

**I took my Biology and Math Finals today, so I'm super tired. But hey! New chapter!**

**Thanks for all the support as always**

**-Mizu**


	4. Artist's Conciliation

Maybe he'd been too hasty in his judgment on having another human being cohabitate with him. Sasori doesn't quite regret having his great uncle moving back into the Compound, but it takes some getting used to. Being a former college recluse with similarly introverted friends might have had a hand in his doubts.

It's not _that_ bad, he has his free time. Ebizō simply makes sure that he is fed on time and gives a few pointers here and there with his puppetry.

Who knew that his great uncle was also a puppeteer? It does make sense since it's a "family thing", in his defense, Sasori knows for a fact that nothing in the anime even alluded to his great uncle's specialization.

So he's getting over his allergy to people and social situations. What he isn't getting over is the frustration of trying to use chakra.

The keyword is _trying_.

He's not succeeding very much, though that might be redundant as it was already said that he is _trying_.

Trying and failing.

More redundancy to hammer home the point that at forty-one and a half inches and mentally a college student, he still can not grasp how the heck chakra works.

It's...inconvenient.

_Highly,_ inconvenient.

He can't use puppets if he can't even form chakra strings.

Sasori's theory as to why his chakra isn't cooperating is that it isn't instinctual for him. He wasn't born with it and has over two decades worth of memories in a world where it didn't even exist.

Yeah, that might do it. Mental blocks, especially subconscious ones, are particularly difficult to get over. He has experience in the form of trying to make friends, he'd planned it out perfectly, only nothing ever goes according to plan.

Moving on from embarrassing memories, it leaves him with a conundrum: how the heck to get his chakra to respond to his demands.

And then he's struck by a horrifying thought, what if he doesn't have chakra? What if chakra is more tied to the soul rather than the body?

He's pretty sure if he has a soul—sue him, he didn't particularly believe in the existence of souls in his old world, religion was _not _his thing—it didn't have chakra.

If he doesn't have any chakra..._oh god he'll die nononono._

But wait, did he even get reincarnated? Wouldn't he have to go through being born again for it to count as reincarnation? All he knows is that he definitely died before waking up _here._

"Sasori-kun, what are you _doing_?" Ebizō echoes Chiyo's sentiments toward Sasori's wall painting endeavor. The sudden appearance of the elder startles him, he hadn't heard Ebizō's approach.

Sneaky old men are sneaky. Especially if they're ninja.

The silence that stretches on for long awkward seconds nudges him to respond quickly, hopefully in the next century.

Sasori...well, he puts his anxiety on hold to have some semblance of sanity,

"Jii-sama, do I have chakra?"

Ebizō raises an eyebrow at his sudden outburst and at his continued insistence to tack on a -sama to how he addresses his great uncle,

"I would hope so, you'd be dead if you didn't have any."

"Could you...check? Please?" Maybe he would be dead under normal circumstances, but it's not as if he is _normal_. Sasori wouldn't be surprised if he really _didn't_ have chakra. Besides, he'd already died once, while he might very well die _again,_ he wouldn't be surprised if he somehow managed to defy all odds and not die from an absence of chakra. Besides, if it is a "soul thing" his soul lived one life without chakra no problem, who's to say that it can't do so again?

"Very well," Something about the way his great uncle acquiesces speaks volumes about how much the elder considers his request to be foolish. It's not foolish if there are legitimate concerns, though he wouldn't be the one to explain that to Ebizō, preferably, no one would. Thankfully, unless a Yamanaka decides to visit his brain or if he somehow manages to mess up so badly that he gets sent to Suna's T&I, he wouldn't have to worry about anyone knowing his secret.

It's the one he'll take to the grave if he has his way, he'd already taken quite a few secrets to one grave already, what's a couple more? Okay, that was edgy. How about he doesn't continue that train of thought? Sasori can't help but hope that his old body had been found and someone bothered to actually bury him, it would be rude if they just left him in his apartment to rot.

Where did that come from? His brain is well known for wandering off cliffs and down strange rabbit holes, but even that is uncalled for.

Ebizō puts a hand on his unfortunately vibrant red hair—people blamed Naruto for being a neon orange target, how about they try eye-searing _crimson?_—and a pulse of something emanates from the hand. Kinda fluffy and warm really. Like passing through a semi-solid jelly or slime thing. Or jelly slime. Or...yeah, no.

Wait! He has a better description, it's like being doused under a stream of semi-tangible water that isn't wet. Water that isn't wet. Water is wet. Or is it? Is it wet? Water is _wet._ Until proven otherwise, he won't have his brain run in circles trying to reason something as ridiculous as whether the chicken or the egg existing first.

It's definitely the..._no! He will not try to reason with the _un_reasonable._

"You have chakra." Ebizō pronounces firmly, tone allowing no room for argument, "And an unusual amount of it."

The first half of his great uncle's statement had soothed his worries and defeated his anxiety. Until the second half slammed into him full force, then his anxiety went through Edo Tensei and came back as a zombie with unlimited chakra.

Unlimited chakra means unlimited ninjutsu. That's not even mentioning the annoying regeneration individuals under Edo Tensei possess. Yup, Sasori is screwed.

"What?" He is very eloquent on a normal basis, he's even more eloquent when he is panicking and trying not to let his ancient shinobi great uncle—a testament of the man's strength for surviving so long in his profession—know he's panicking.

"Relax," Oh, so Sasori failed in his attempt to mask his worry. Hey, he was mostly a painter, not one of those drama geeks, his acting was never all that great.

"You just have an unusually large amount of chakra for one so young. Almost as if you were an adult...except you have none of the control that comes with age and experience. Even civilians have better control than you." Ebizō remarks, amused at his great nephew's fluctuating moods.

Ouch. That one hurt. It makes some sense because he was an adult, but he didn't have chakra previously so there's no instinctual control that comes with having a life force his entire life.

That...does not explain if chakra is a soul thing or a physical thing. If it is tied to the body, Sasori wouldn't have so much of it, he certainly didn't in canon...did he? No, he definitely didn't as a kid.

The only reasonable explanation he can come up with is that it is a mind thing and partially a body thing. It makes sense, a body is born with chakra, it is the maturity and age of the mind that encourages the growth and control of chakra. Naruto had a lot of chakra not only because of his bijuu or bloodline but also because of his sheer force of will and _ungodly _levels of determination.

The Sharingan is unlocked under extreme mental duress that comes with _grief and fear._

Sasori isn't sure if his hypothesis is correct, it doesn't explain anything about how bloodlines are inherited. Though it could be attributed to the physical factors of chakra.

He's getting ahead of himself; he hasn't read anything about chakra theory.

But he can't help but wonder, isn't the mind a reflection of the soul and vice versa?

His brain protests from his attempts to wrap his mind around something he didn't even have in his previous life.

Or did he have it? Did everyone have chakra but no one knew because it was dismissed as fantasy? The subconscious limits the brain places on life can have large consequences. If society as a whole believed something…

The brain has a huge amount of power and control.

Somethings are still impossible, yes, but not all things deemed unachievable are truly so. Man did reach the moon despite what most would believe centuries prior.

Okay, full _stop right there._

He will not go down a rabbit hole of conspiracies and hypotheses that can't even be proven—what if they can be proven though?—and he will simply accept that he has chakra, albeit an unusual amount of it.

He will take it as an unexpected blessing. Something like this rarely happens in the Narutoverse, he'll need every advantage to one-up his peers and enemies.

"A ryo for your thoughts, Sasori-kun?" Even in another world, the same idioms are used. Adapted to suit the culture and circumstance because as far as Sasori knows, pennies don't exist in the Elemental Nations.

"It'll take more than a ryo, Jii-sama. Chakra control can be learned, right?"

Sasori already knows the answer, but the real question is if _Sasori_ should know the answer. Which sounds strange, but it wouldn't make sense for a five-year-old with amnesia to know what chakra control exercises are and he's pretty sure the Leaf exercise is, you know, found in the _Leaf?_ Otherwise known as Konoha or Konohagakure if you want to be technical.

Ebizō Beckons before turning around to laboriously make his way down the hall,

"Correct, with the amount you have, it would be wise to have you start on them a little younger than most."

That got Sasori's attention, chakra control exercises are important, almost just as important as figuring out how to make his own puppets. Well, in theory, he already knows how to make puppets, it's just that Chiyo refuses to let him near any carving knives. She's convinced that he'll take off his hand with some of them. To be fair, there were unusually large knives and saws in the puppet workshop Chiyo showed him once.

Why anyone would use something so unwieldy is beyond him. Besides, who has the time to memorize which tool does what and when to use them? There are probably thousands in the workshop! Why not use chakra? It exists as a cheat to life, why wouldn't someone use it when it's more convenient?

"Jii-sama," Sasori questions, following closely behind his great uncle as they pass by more rooms. He has an inkling of an idea as to where they are going, the Library is the only reasonable deduction from the direction they're traveling.

"Yes, Sasori-kun?" Ebizō does not slow in his route but tilts his head slightly to show that he's paying attention. This is why Sasori likes the man, Ebizō doesn't treat him like a child to be coddled and the man respects him enough not to put him on a pedestal. His great uncle is brusque in his own strangely polite manner, which shouldn't make sense because usually "brusque" and "polite" contradict each other.

"Why don't people use chakra to make puppets?" The question is innocent enough, but the way his great uncle pauses in stride for one barely perceptible moment gives away exactly how much his question took the elder off guard.

It takes a few more moments for Ebizō to respond to his question. The silence wasn't awkward, but more like quiet contemplation while Ebizō takes his time to come up with a respectable answer. Another trait Sasori likes, Ebizō gives him answers without filtering them to be suitable "for young impressionable minds".

Everything that Chiyo is not, Ebizō is.

Chiyo likes to coddle him, and it irritates him, no matter how well-intentioned she may be. While he understands where she's coming from and he's hesitant to be rude, it can get stifling sometimes. She always underestimates his ability to grasp concepts, where Ebizō would simply tell him, expecting him to ask questions if he doesn't understand.

Chiyo has a picture in her head on what her grandson should be.

Sasori is nothing like that picture and she can't accept that, always trying to mold him back into something he isn't. While he's willing to compromise—which is a huge concession on his part because this is _his personality_, no one should change who they are to suit the image others hold of them—there's only so much he can change before becoming someone else entirely.

"The reason why people do not use chakra to make puppets is because most do not have the control required to carry out such precise techniques," Ebizō breaks the peeved silence Sasori had fallen into, "For example, one would need almost perfect mastery over Wind transformation in order to cut wood without ruining the puppet."

As if sensing that Sasori has more questions, Ebizō elaborates on his answer.

"As a regular jutsu, pouring too much chakra into a technique would simply mean a slightly larger area of effect. In some cases, this can be beneficial, but in a precise art such as puppetry, the difference of a millimeter can mean the failure of an integral mechanism. In battle, a puppet's failure to perform exactly as it should can become fatal."

Ebizō is solemn as he concludes his lecture,

"So if you aspire to be a puppeteer, keep in mind that a puppet is your greatest strength as well as your greatest weakness. If you do not prepare well enough or have another technique to fall back on, you will only ever be as good as the puppets you wield. No matter how good you are, there will always be someone stronger, smarter, and more experienced than you. Do not stagnate, do not fall behind, and _never_ become lax in your own arrogance."

"Of course, Jii-sama."

Ebizō huffs at his grand nephew's response,

"What did I say about being so formal?"

Sasori stares back at him with wide innocent eyes,

"Not to do it?"

"Yes, now stop trying to look as if you're about to kill someone." Ebizō chuckles at the face Sasori pulls at his admonishment.

"Oi, I do not look like I'm about to kill someone! I'm innocent, ojin!"

"Sure you are, Sasori-kun. Squint and pout some more next time, your eyes are big enough without you exacerbating it. I may be old, but I'm not too old to outpace you." With that, Ebizō takes off, leaving Sasori blinking at the speed he's using.

"That's cheating! You're using chakra!"

It takes a few moments for his great uncle's reply to drift back to him,

"A shinobi always cheats, remember that for future reference."

* * *

**I know I said that I wanted to make sure he has a better relationship with Chiyo this time, but then this happened.**

**It'll happen, I swear!**

**I think?**

**Anyway, hope you enjoy.**

**(Also, I'm using Japanese terms as a writing tool, if you don't like it, you don't have to read it. It's totally fine. But even the English dub of the anime included Japanese terms so I don't know how that didn't also offend someone. However, if I am using them incorrectly, please tell me so I can fix that.)**

**Thanks!**

**Mizu**


	5. Artist's Encounterance

"Kami damn it! Why is this so difficult?!" Sasori exclaims after he drops the glass pebble he'd been trying to stick to his finger.

"Language, Sasori-kun. It'll get easier when you get more control over your chakra." Ebizō sighs from his seat in the corner of the library, book abandoned in favor of watching his great-nephew fail at the most basic chakra exercise for the umpteenth time. His expression is one of great fascination and fond exasperation.

"Tell that to my uncooperative chakra! I know what I'm supposed to do," Sasori runs his hands through his increasingly messy hair, "I finally got a hold on it and it just...I don't even know how to describe it. It's like telling a puppy to sit, it almost obeys until it sees a bird and then goes chasing after the distraction."

Ebizō's eyebrow raises, it's been doing a lot of that lately,

"That's an oddly specific comparison. When did you meet this puppy? There aren't many dogs in Suna."

"Uhhhh...I read it—" Sasori looks around him and points to the meager collection of children's books, "—in a book!"

Ebizō's eyebrow rises even further,

"Would my perusal of those books reveal otherwise?"

"Umm…"

"I thought so," Ebizō runs a tired hand over his face, "If I hadn't spent the last few days confirming your identity as my great nephew, I'd be convinced that you're an imposter. Nonetheless, you have questions to answer, Sasori-kun."

"I have weird dreams." He blurts out.

"What." Is the deadpan reply that Ebizō pairs with two raised eyebrows.

"Ichimaru and The Big Bad Tanuki mentions dogs, it wasn't that much of a stretch to compare dog children them to human children. I had a nightmare about a kid with the face of a dog that went chasing after road runners and lizards like an overgrown tumbleweed." Sasori rambles, it's _great_ that he has a great imagination to come up with _such _a convincing lie, who _wouldn't_ buy it?

"What...have you been smoking, Sasori?" Ebizō beckons for him to come over, face set in a concerned frown.

"Hey! That's mean you senile ojin!" Okay, maybe someone will buy it, but no buying weed from him because he's not high! Nor is he a drug dealer! That... does not make sense, does it? He's not high! Bad thoughts, paint fumes don't make someone...oh wait they do. No, _no_, don't think about _that._

"Come over here, I need to check your temperature." Ebizō's gesturing becomes a bit more frantic.

"I'm not high!" So what if his protests are now slightly hysterical? He's fine! He. Is. Not. High.

"Sure you aren't, I'm more worried about chakra exhaustion causing your brain to...react strangely."

Oh. Oh, that's fine. As long as he isn't high. Sasori glares at his great uncle petulantly,

"I'm not exhausted! I barely even started dipping into my chakra reserves, besides, it just gets reabsorbed back into me anyway."

"What." The tone of the response is even more worrying than potentially being high.

"Is it...not supposed to do that?"

"No, it isn't." Is the curt answer

"Oh."

Ebizō sighs again,

"Just...come over here so I can get some peace of mind."

"Okay, Jiji." Sasori obediently walks over to the chair, sticking the glass pebble back on his hand. To his surprise and Ebizō's, it remains there.

"Jiji! I did it!" He waves his hand enthusiastically.

"Yes...yes, you did, Sasori-kun." A warm hand patted him on the head gently, Ebizō's expression is tired, but faintly amused, "Maybe there's hope for you yet."

"Hey! Take that back!"

Stupid old man always has to have the last word.

* * *

_A week later:_

"Sasori-kun, might I remind you that you are still five?" Ebizō drawls from his position in the doorway to Sasori's room, the elder seems to be resolutely ignoring the two brightly painted walls and how badly the blue one clashes with the red.

Sasori knew that the two colors would clash horribly with one another, it's the reason why he painted his walls those respective colors. Still, no matter how much he appreciates the elder, social interaction with children is out of the question. If he can't stand most adults, he won't we able to remain sane if he has to "play" with others his age.

So he doesn't look up from his scroll on fuinjutsu and its applications in puppetry when replying, hoping that his great uncle would get the hint and stop pestering him,

"I know, but social interaction is overrated."

Ebizō sighs, he's been doing that a lot lately, Sasori notes. It's funny how this time he's closer to his great uncle rather than his grandmother. Chiyo isn't happy about the development, but a deadly combination of Unimpressed Raised EyebrowTM from both Sasori and Ebizō silenced her complaints.

Or maybe it was the discovery that he'd painted yet another wall of his bright red this time.

Eh, whatever.

"Sasori-kun, Ane-ue and I might not agree on all things, but we both have to admit that it isn't healthy for you to spend your days learning no matter how heartwarming it is to see such enthusiasm coming from you." His great uncle insists, refusing to be budged.

"No." Maybe his refusal was a little rude, but he won't be budged eithe—

"Up you go, your clothes are presentable, so I won't make you change. Let's go, Sasori-kun."

From his position of being slung over his great-uncle's shoulder like a sack of potatoes, Sasori muses that he should have known that there's no way he'll win this one. Time to do damage control.

* * *

"Hiya, I'm Komushi!" A boy holds out a hand for him to shake, smile so wide Sasori has to wonder if it hurts.

Well, this is a predicament.

Nope. He's not going down that path of insanity. Maybe it's wrong of him to be superstitious, but he's not going to make friends with Komushi. Not when it...yeah. Last time didn't go so great from what happened in canon.

He doesn't bother to take the hand and instead turns around and walks away.

There's no regret, survival trumps every other desire he may possess.

"Hey! Don't ignore me, jerk!"

_Sorry Komushi, but I can't allow you to become a part of my life._

"What did I ever do to you?" Komushi...when did "boy" become replaced by a name? He can't afford to give the boy a name.

_What did you do indeed?_

"Is it something that I did? Okaa-san always told me I'm a bit rude, but this is the first time someone had completely ignored me for it."

_Why are you walking next to me? Go away._

"Wow, you don't talk much do you? Or are you still annoyed?" The boy frowns.

_Go away. Leave me alone._

"You're weird, but you have cool hair."

_Go __**away.**_

"So, friends?"

"Go away."

And there's finally silence, it takes a few steps for Sasori to notice the boy hadn't continued following him. A moment of indecisiveness causes a hitch in his stride, but it is quickly amended.

"Asshole."

Ha, really now? The boy utters the word with so much venom as if it's some sort of horrible curse. Please, Sasori has heard much worse in another lifetime.

"I _will_ be friends with you! Just you wait!"

This...can only end badly, so why is he smiling?

The pattering of footsteps behind him recedes as he stands rooted to the ground from Komushi's declaration.

_The first words I ever spoke to him were "go away" and his response is to turn it into a game?_

Sasori idly notes that he seems to have acquired a "rival" that protagonists are prone to picking up before finding himself a bit of shade to read under. Ebizō didn't know that he'd snuck a scroll out with him when they left the Compound.

Maybe he'll finally figure out something useful.

To his dismay, it wasn't the scroll he'd originally hidden, but one on origami instead. Ebizō probably assumed that he wouldn't be interested in something so...mundane and would be motivated to actually interact with people.

_Sneaky old Jiji, just you watch, I'll become the best origami master just to spite you._

With that resolution, Sasori pulls out a paper he'd originally planned to take notes on and begins making meticulous folds.

* * *

**Yay, another chapter.**

**I have an explanation for the chakra, but you'll have to wait until he's thirty something before you get an answer.**

**The first arc is coming to an end soon and the Academy one will start in a few chapters. Maybe four? Idk.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Mizu**


	6. Artist's Ascertainment

"Well, Sasori-kun?" Ebizō coaxes him, "Just think about how much easier it would be for you to create chakra strings in the future if you practiced your control more."

"No! I refuse to work with a _puppy!_" Sasori knows that he's being childish, the Inuzuka coexist quite nicely with their ninken. In fact, the teamwork between human and dog is famous in all nations, not just Konoha.

He just doesn't get along very well with his chakra, which to be completely honest, it's a far cry from an actual dog. Dogs are much nicer, at least he could hug it forever and ever.

Wait that sounds distinctly _wrong._

Ebizō pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Sasori, it's your _chakra._" The elder settles down on the floor beside his great-nephew wearily.

"I know, but it's a puppy all the same." Sasori continues to behead his puppets sullenly.

"Sasori-kun, I know you have big plans for your future as a shinobi, the questions you ask me constantly are evidence of that," Ebizō says gently, reattaching the heads with brutal efficiency, "But if you wish to become a puppeteer, you must have incredible control of your chakra. If you're really so against it, it's not too late to look into becoming a ninjutsu specialist, you have more than the necessary reserves to become one."

His great-uncle removes the puppet he still has clutched tightly in his hands and returns it to its box with the rest.

_No. No, he will _not _become a ninjutsu specialist. They're loud, annoying, and have no finesse at all._

Maybe he's biased, but all he wants is to be able to use his puppets. He doesn't need flashy fireballs or water dragons; he has his art skills and he's going to use them.

"You have an unusual amount of chakra for one so young, so you must work twice as hard as everyone else to control it." Ebizō reminds him gently.

"Yeah, twice as hard and still two steps behind everyone else." He mutters angrily under his breath, not quite sure if he wants Ebizō to hear but he really doesn't care enough.

"Where's the determination you had a month ago?" Ebizō queries.

He glares at nothing in particular, angry at his great uncle, angry at himself, just...angry at the world in general.

"Dead, deader, and deadest."

Ebizō gives him an unimpressed look,

"Deadest is not a word."

"Yes, it is." He knows that he's being silly, and he really shouldn't be acting so childish when he's not actually a child. But he also is kind of a child at the moment so it can be excused? At least, it wouldn't be out of character for him because he is physically a child. He should be reminding people that he's a kid so they don't get any ideas about sending him to the Academy at five.

Or he's just making excuses.

"No, it isn't."

He crosses his arms petulantly,

"Google doesn't mark it as an incorrect word."

"What?"

And then he remembers his beloved Google does not exist here. Neither does WiFi.

"Nevermind."

"Sasori-kun, I know you have an active imagination, but you shouldn't fool yourself into believing that they're real." His great-uncle reprimands, "It is important to be able to distinguish reality from fiction."

It would be sound advice if he weren't so uncertain whether or not this reality _is_ fiction. He could still be...oh, maybe in a coma? And this would all be a wonderful illusion until they pull the life support and he dies.

But he's already dead.

So it's not a coma.

He doesn't know how he can be so sure when he didn't actually _see_ himself die, he just _knows_.

Just like how he _knows_ this is not an illusion.

Which is weird because _how_ could he possibly know?

It's just going to have to be one of those weird things.

His great-uncle abruptly brings the topic back to his control, seeing through Sasori's attempt at diverting attention away from it,

"Though maybe we should try a different approach in regards to your chakra, it's unusually intuitive...which chakra shouldn't be as it is simply energy."

"What can I say, I'm _weird._" He shrugs, it's not as if he can help it. His chakra is weird, he is weird, both of them are probably the weird_est._

And his chakra right now? It's bouncing around like a hooligan, oddly cheerful and pleased.

Heh, maybe it likes being weird. He likes being weird, it keeps people on their toes.

Another bounce.

Maybe his great-uncle is right, maybe he's not approaching the problem correctly...he's treating his chakra as if it's a separate entity from him.

It isn't.

It's an extension of himself, more like an extra limb that he's never learned to use. By giving up control and just winging it might be the best way to go in this case. It certainly sounds more fun than trying to stick glass pebbles onto himself.

"You're right Jii-sama. I have an idea."

"Oh? I was going to suggest you move on to wall climbing since it's more taxing and requires less control. Once you master that, we can focus on more precise exercises." Ebizō explains, "It's essentially the opposite of what most people do. Of course, that's mainly because they're expected to build up chakra as they go. Beginners usually don't have enough chakra to even _attempt_ wall climbing. Unlike you, _you _already have too much chakra."

Sasori can _feel_ the exasperation coming off Ebizō in waves. So maybe he's really _weird_ and not helpful, but it's not his fault! Or...well, it _is_ his fault. Kind of.

"Sure, but after I test out my new hypothesis." He feels like he's onto something.

Another happy bounce from his chakra.

"Another hypothesis? Will I need to exit the Compound just in case?"

He knows that Ebizō is teasing, he _knows_ but it still irks him. So his last little hypothesis ended up tracking paint _everywhere_ in the Compound to the exasperation of both his surviving relatives, it doesn't mean _this _time he'll do anything as out of hand as his great-uncle is insinuating.

Granted, he is using _chakra _this time, but _still_.

"Just...stay on your side of the compound and leave the west wing alone for the rest of the day. I'll eat when I get hungry, so tell Grandma to stop worrying. If it's going to continue tomorrow, I'll warn you."

A happy bounce that melts into a puddle of shame. He's not embarrassed. Nope. Nothing to see here.

The chakra is lying.

Definitely lying.

"Very well. You can fill me in later." Another reason why he likes Ebizō more than Chiyo. Chiyo would interrogate him extensively and tell him whatever he has schemed is too dangerous. Ebizō doesn't bat an eyelash and inquires if he would have to help do damage control.

It's not that Ebizō isn't concerned or doesn't care, maybe if Chiyo decided to actually stay in the Compound for more than just sleep and a hurried breakfast in the morning, she'd know her own grandson a little better.

If she saw more than the aftermath of his crazy ideas and bothered to do more than just hand him some scrolls on puppets to analyze, she'd understand more.

That or Ebizō is an awesome great-uncle. Actually, Ebizō _is_ an awesome great-uncle.

_Just you wait, Grandma, I'm going to make you super chill and awesome too._

But first...he has to carry out his hypothesis.

Ebizō sighs and then leaves Sasori's room, closing the door on his way out.

Sasori is left to his own devices.

"Well, time to cry."

He thinks of something really sad, his chakra continues bouncing happily. He's not very sad at all despite thinking about sad things.

"So this isn't working very well, it shouldn't be this hard to make myself sad…"

Then he remembers. That one time Ebizō told him that his blue paint got sacrificed in the chaos of his newest idea that involved an incredibly complicated pulley system and an array of paint brushes.

His last...can of blue paint.

Sasori isn't sure if he's really that obsessed with blue or if it's because he's a child again, but he doesn't bother to stop the lone tear that manages to eke its way into existence. Well, they say misery likes company, so it's not much of a surprise that more tears join the first until he's bawling his eyes out.

Quietly. Because Ebizō is a sneaky ninja and would come running if he heard Sasori crying. Crying children usually means something is wrong and it is the job of old people to fix crying children.

His chakra does a depressed flop, tendrils of it branch out and curl around himself as if he's giving himself a consolation hug.

Okay.

So what if he's mad?

He imagines a scenario in which someone told him that art is a waste of time and he should do something productive with his life like becoming a doctor. Don't they know how much school goes into being a doctor? And then they look at his work and say that it looks like trash as if he can't do anything right.

Sasori is officially pissed. The chakra that had been previously flowing through his coils depressively flares to life, churning out more of itself and seeping into his flesh. It simmers just beneath his skin white hot and ready to tear something or someone into pieces.

He muses idly that it's certainly one way to wake himself up. As soon as he's no longer angry anymore, the gathered chakra dissipates, wandering back into his coils and leaving his muscles protesting at the unwarranted abuse.

"Ow. _Ow._"

The feeling is comparable to having run himself into the ground from excessive physical activity.

In other words, very uncomfortable and painful.

"Tomorrow is going to suck." He's going to be sore and awful, maybe he can convince Chiyo and Ebizō to let him stay in bed for the rest of the week.

Yeah, right. His grandmother and his great-uncle would get into an argument on being responsible by not letting him do whatever the hell he wants and whether or not he should be allowed to stay in bed. Chiyo would baby him for as long as she could before leaving to go to another council meeting. Then when she's gone, Ebizō will drag him out of bed right as he's reconsidering his life choices to learn some more cool things.

Chiyo will come back and get angry to find him out of bed, but by that point, Ebizō would have done some sort of magic trick so Sasori wouldn't feel dead on his feet.

Then there would be another argument.

The best course of action would be to never mention this to his grandmother but go to his great-uncle to inquire how to fix himself.

Sasori wobbles onto his feet, wondering why his chakra didn't respond this way every time he got angry. He'd been pretty upset when Chiyo put her foot down on him actually making any of his own puppets until he began attending the Academy. He's only allowed to handle the others with adult supervision.

Supervision in the form of his great-uncle who surreptitiously teaches him how to activate and make each mechanism when his grandmother isn't around.

As he said, his great-uncle is _awesome._

Maybe the reason why his chakra usually doesn't respond like this is because he wasn't consciously encouraging it to _just do something, anything._

Sasori makes his way slowly down the hallways, upon reaching his desired destination, he knocks on the door and waits. There are shuffling sounds within before the door slides open.

"Sasori-kun, what did you do _now_?"

"I tested out my hypothesis."

Ebizō picks him up carefully, pushing medical chakra into his system to detect any injuries he sustained from his little experiment.

"By doing _what_?"

"I made myself really angry and surprise! My chakra is extremely receptive to my emotions." Sasori explains from his position in a very comfy chair. He is handed a cup of tea and a pile of blankets.

"You should be suffering from chakra exhaustion from the severity of the chakra burns you gave yourself."

Sasori startles, blinking from the new information,

"Oh. So that's what it was. Yeah, The chakra just wandered its way back into my chakra coils when I didn't have it actually do anything. So I don't have chakra exhaustion, which is really nice."

"Wandered its way back into your chakra coils."

"Yes." Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned it. But Ebizō should already know, he mentioned it before. Maybe his great-uncle didn't believe him due to him having "chakra exhaustion" at the time.

Ebizō sighs and pours a cup of tea for himself,

"When will your chakra behave as it should?"

Sasori shrugs,

"I don't know. When it stops acting like a kid who got their caught with their hand in the cookie jar."

"What."

"Yes." He doesn't know what else he's supposed to say.

"I give up." Ebizō continues staring into his cup of tea as if it holds all the answers to his questions.

Sasori takes the hint, he'll stop being weird for the day. Finishing his tea, he burrows deeper into his pile of blankets and the comfy chair. Suna is supposed to be hot, but he doesn't feel that right now. Perhaps he'd finally adapted to the extreme temperatures of the desert.

Sasori closes his eyes and wonders if now would be a good time to fall asleep, his chakra keeps him awake by doing god knows what...twirls?

_Hey, I don't know why you're like this, but how about we cooperate to kick some serious ass and take names?_

The returning happy bouncy feeling he receives is promising.

And he's hot again. He didn't adapt to Suna's insane heat after all.

* * *

**Where is Chiyo? (At her annoying and convenient Council Meetings)**

**Quick question: How does one brainwash people to be loyal? Like...how the heck does Jiraiya get himself a spy ring? Does he pay them? Blackmail? Genjutsu? (Okay that was more than one question)**

**As for the review about Thanos' Infinity Gauntlet...I don't know, how about we give him a few years when he's not five? He'll probably just have a happy accident that involves somehow getting rid of all the infinity stones by shoving them in a storage seal and then destroying the scroll. Hopefully, that means the stones are in a pocket dimension somewhere spinning further, and further away.**

**Though it would be only a matter of time before someone found them again, maybe he should put them in different pocket dimensions that are in other pocket dimensions with other things in those pocket dimensions, like that one room in the Room of Requirement.**

**Anyway, that was a tangent.**

**Have fun reading!**

**Mizu (Silently having a crisis about how much she should deviate from the plot)**


	7. Artist's Acquaintance

_Two months later:_

"Alright! Day One of exploring Suna, getting some physical training in, and hopefully more chakra control practice!" Sasori cheers, though the enthusiasm is more from finally being allowed out of the Compound unsupervised. It had been two months since he "woke up".

As it turns out, it is totally acceptable for a toddler to wander alone in a village, especially if it's one of the Five Great Shinobi Nations. The high concentration of shinobi and their pseudo-civilian family members keep the crime rates down.

Ever wondered how well-known shinobi manage to have families and keep them without a clan? Well, it shouldn't be surprising that they're taught some sort of self-defense to compensate. So, even if they don't decide to become shinobi, they'll be mostly fine because their overprotective family members make sure to hammer useful skills in. The Kazekage is quite lenient on these people should they start fights. Probably because they have a propensity for producing stronger children that are likely to become shinobi in the future. But, there's a limit to the kindness a _shinobi_ village will show, it's debatable if it _is_ kindness, as soon as a line is crossed, the infraction will be dealt with just like the others. Sometimes with even more force than what is usually granted to the violation of rules.

Anyway, Sasori has plans to carry out, mayhem to cause, and world domination to set in motion.

Actually, no, world domination was _so last season_, passive-aggressive trolling is in fashion now.

Whatever, he has daylight to burn. Speeding down the path leading to the gate, he resolves to simply do whatever comes up today. No schedule, just exploring and learning more about the Village he lives in.

It doesn't take long for his childish body to become tired, a frankly disappointing amount of time. It annoys him, how is he supposed to be anything if he can't even sprint ten meters? He decides to cheat with his knowledge of canon.

_Shinobi are well known for their ability to use chakra to enhance their bodies, be it senses or stamina. Tsunade is a prime example of using her chakra control to magnify her incredible strength. I wonder…_

He pools some chakra slowly beneath his feet as he runs.

A mistake.

His chakra _snaps_ and he's suddenly launched into the air, shocked and screaming profanities like a sailor.

"FuckingkamishitthiswasafuckingawfulideacrapIregretthismotherfuckerdidthishavetogowrong?"

Ahem. Nothing to see here villagers. The laughing shinobi in over there two tables down should learn to be more subtle.

Ouch, at least he landed on his feet. Not sulking, he stalks over to a more secluded area to _slowly_ test his chakra.

This time, he keeps a tight rein on his chakra when he pushes it to his feet in tiny increments. Eventually, it reacts the same as before on a lesser scale, pushing him forward and up.

_So that's how shinobi make those insanely high jumps. I wonder what the shunshin would be?_

Sasori repeats his earlier action, but this time he wills his chakra to take on a more slippery consistency, something his feet can slide on.

It doesn't result in a shunshin, but something entirely new. He slides forward, stumbling and causing his concentration to break. The chakra disperses and is reabsorbed into his body.

Oh right, the reabsorption thing that his chakra is apparently not normal. Chakra, after it's used, is supposed to disperse into its surroundings harmlessly. But for Sasori...it just wanders around like a lost puppy before realizing nothing is happening and dejectedly makes its way back to him.

Ebizō and Chiyo have no explanation for why this is occurring, but he overheard the conversation they had when they assumed that he'd been too far down the hall to hear.

'_Almost like how a bijuu reforms after they're "killed".'_ Were the words that Chiyo used. Sasori isn't sure what that's supposed to mean because he isn't a bijuu. He's just a...misplaced soul.

While he has questions, today is not the day to ponder them, today is a day of fun, happiness, and chaos. He'll figure things out later, like tomorrow. It's likely he won't ever get an answer unless he meets a bijuu, which is hopefully never. He can even see how it would be useful, if his chakra doesn't dissipate, he can reuse it over and over again.

Probably, he did notice that the reabsorbed chakra doesn't reintegrate into his reserves immediately. However, from what he can tell, once it does reintegrate it can be used like the rest.

Sasori shakes his head to clear it, determined to try his new discovery again, his chakra takes on the same slippery consistency.

Now that he's expecting it, he crouches low on the ground to prevent himself from stumbling. He pushes with both hands, causing his body to slide forward.

_It's like...having roller skates._

The nostalgia hits hard as he shakily stands. He gently uses on foot to push, only for it to slide back and his other foot to slide forward. Sasori is brought into a sudden and painful split.

And he starts cursing again, this time at a much lower volume, not enough to bring any undue attention. Groaning, he rolls onto his side, thankful for the stretches Chiyo made him go through and the natural flexibility children are blessed with. Otherwise, he's certain he would have pulled something.

A challenge, one that he resolves to overcome.

* * *

"Oww!"

* * *

"Um, are we moving yet?"

* * *

"Shit, that's a wall! No, go the other way! The _other way!"_

_Crash._

"I'm so sorry!"

* * *

"I know I've always wanted to a backward flip, but this was not how I imagined it going."

* * *

"Finally!" After many mishaps and injuries later, he coasts _slowly_ down the road, drawing inquisitive looks from those that notice how he's not actually walking.

The attention he's getting almost makes everything worth it, _almost._

"Alright, time to figure out how chakra enhancements work."

He focuses chakra in his legs, his previous experiments making him wary. A leaden weight settles in his stomach.

"Shit." Was all he managed to utter before he learned why testing out two chakra techniques at the same time without full mastery over at least one is a _very_ bad idea.

He slams into someone from the force his chakra enhanced leg combined with his "skating thing".

"I'm sorry!" He hastily bows, not even bothering to stand and gawk. He remembers an altercation with an old granny and her disrupted garden that ended badly. He'd been too busy trying to blink the stars out of his eyes from forcibly interacting with her lovely wall. It was a very lovely wall. A very sandy, and very boring one, but a lovely wall all the same.

"It's fine."

Sasori gives a relieved exhale, straightening himself, and fully prepared to give an explanation. Then he realizes who he just bumped into and he shuts his mouth with an audible click.

"What's wrong?" The Sandaime Kazekage questions, face as emotionless as his voice.

Well. There goes all of his happiness and determination.

The Sandaime Kazekage, except he isn't actually Kazekage now, is he? He's in his teens, not even an adult, still a boy barely past puberty.

This is all very awkward indeed.

How about he return home and forget this ever happened? While his brain dimly registers that he'll have to face the Sandaime eventually because, well, they do become Kazekage, it would be difficult to avoid them.

Damn, Komushi he can run away from well enough, but this...this has Sasori beat.

"My question?"

What is it with people and him being required to answer their questions these days?

"It's fine." Sasori flings his response right back at him.

"Hn." '**Is that so?'**

_Oh no. No, you're not by any chance an Uchiha or relation of theirs? Wait, how did I even know what you meant by "hn"?_

"Isago."

"What?" He's not sure what prompted the sudden interruption of the rabbit hole his mind went down.

"My name."

"Oh." Isago, he can finally stop referring to them as the Sandaime Kazekage now, really is a man of few words. Even through their little impromptu conversation, he'd barely showed even a trace of emotion and his voice remains almost inflectionless.

The longest string of words Isago had spoken to him up until now had been two words.

That's pretty sad.

If he wasn't supposed to kill Isago in canon, he'd be more receptive to becoming acquaintances just to see if he can't get them to start talking more.

"Yours?"

Seriously, is he just going to speak in caveman? Well, two can play a game. He schools his face to something resembling Iago's ironclad blankness.

"Sasori."

Isago doesn't even blink at the sudden change in demeanor Sasori goes through.

"I see."

"Indeed." Seriously, why does he understand Uchiha speak? This is unreal. Maybe it's just his brain making things up?

"Hn." '**You understand me?'**

"Yes." Some shinobi have stopped to observe the back and forth they have going on. A few had snickered when he first rammed into Isago accidentally, watching to see what would happen.

"Hn?" '**Come with me.'**

"Definitely not." The peanut gallery is propagating at alarming levels, are they...no...they're betting?! Sasori swears that the unwanted audience is passing money to one dude in the middle who seems to be in charge of the book.

"Why not?"

"Because." It might just be his personality, but Isago doesn't bother to pay attention to the growing crowd. Someone whistles. Another person shushes them violently.

"Because?" '**Because?'**

"I don't know you." There, he said it, now he can return home and forget anything happened today.

"Hn." '**I told you my name.'**

"True." But that doesn't mean anything!

"Come."

"Why?" Some idiots chuckle in the background.

"Hn." '**I want you to meet someone.'**

"Fine." Sasori relents, how bad could it be? He has a whole crowd of witnesses if they find his body lying about later. _If _they find his body.

Said crowd has some more idiots slack-jawed and others roaring in laughter.

"Follow me."

Before Sasori makes to follow Isago, someone grabs his poncho scarf thing,

"Easy kid, do you even know what he just asked you to do?" The man looks well-intentioned enough, there's actual worry in his tone.

Sasori quickly reviews the conversation he had with Isago without the helpful translations his brain automatically provided.

Oh. _Oh my._

"You lewd fool! Get your hands off of me!" Sasori takes advantage of the ruckus he caused to squirm out of the shinobi's grasp, "Shame on you for having a dirty mind!"

Isago stops in his tracks, choosing to silently observe rather than interfere.

The surprised shinobi flinches, _actually flinches,_

"Kid. What have you been _doing? _You're what, _six? You're not supposed to know these things!_"

"I'm _five_ and it's a misunderstanding! He wants me to meet someone!" Sasori turns to Isago, "Who was it that you wanted me to meet?"

"Sensei."

"There, satisfied? He's only a teen!" Sasori screeches back at the gaping man.

"Only a teen? You're _only a toddler!_"

He scowls,

"Dead dove. Do. Not. Eat."

"What?"

"Inside joke. Now shoo, all of you. I have a person to meet." With that, he huffs and hurries to catch up with Isago.

Sasori drops the game, conceding defeat to his curiosity, he can continue to imitate Isago sometime else.

"So why do you want me to meet your sensei?"

Isago ponders his next words,

"She'd approve." The "of you" went unsaid much like most of his vocabulary, even now, the teen hadn't said anything longer than two words.

"Why did people automatically assume the worst of you?" Perhaps he shouldn't have said that, but he'd never been all that great at not offending people.

"I'm strange."

"Ah, I see. Don't worry, sanity is boring and overrated." Sasori cheerfully teased from his position behind Isago.

"You talk a lot."

"That was four words. Four. _Whole. Words. _Isago. I'm so proud I'm not even going to get mad at what you're implying."

His comment caused Isago to stop abruptly and Sasori stumbles to a sudden halt, confused.

"You're not...I don't…" For once, his emotionless face is marred by discomfort and agitation.

Sasori squints up at him,

"It's fine. I know what you meant."

Isago gives a barely-there smile of relief,

"Thanks."

"No problem."

And that? That feels like the start of a _beautiful _friendship. Canon can go sideways, Sasori has made his first human friend. Six and Five don't count because neither are alive nor human.

Komushi doesn't either. _Does not._ Will _never_. He's not running away. It's not because Isago would become someone strong enough to kill him if he ever becomes crazy enough to attempt to assassinate the Kazekage.

* * *

**Yes, Six died. He's a spider, they don't tend to live very long. (A couple of years) And Six was well on into his lifespan. The constant terror Sasori subjects him to might've given him a heart attack, I don't know.**

**Sasori makes a friend, yay. His control becomes better with his chakra actually cooperating, it's a work in progress.**

**Enjoy small innocent Sasori while it lasts because it sure won't.**

**Fun fact!**

**沙 is the Kanji for Isago. It means "sand" in Chinese. (Kanji and Chinese characters overlap a lot) Yes I know Kanji is Japanese, it's actually Chinese, so that's why it isn't pronounced "suna". **

**本鉄 is Isago's last name (Hontetsu) It has the kanji for "origin" and then the kanji for "iron".**

**If you read a name the way Japanese people usually order it, he's Hontetsu Isago (Origin of Iron Sand).**

**What can I say? I spent waaay to much time on this.**

**Mizu**


	8. Artist's Metamorphosis

"So, Isago, who's the brat?" A woman, presumably Isago's sensei snickered and waggled her eyebrows, "You wouldn't _believe_ what I just heard about you two."

She's rather short, brown-haired with slate grey eyes. The standard jonin uniform of Suna is a little too big on her despite looking like she should be in her twenties. A large scroll is strapped onto her back along with what seem to be calligraphy brushes.

It'd only been about ten minutes since Sasori met Isago and the woman already knows about it, did news always travel so fast in Suna?

Isago doesn't seem to find his sensei's information gathering abilities to be unusual,

"Hn." '**Shut up, lady.'**

"_Rude_. Is that any way to treat your sensei?" Sasori pokes Isago in the leg.

The woman snorts, rolling her eyes at Isago's antics. The teen in question's expression is as flat as ever but an air of disapproval radiates from him.

"Please kid, he does that all the time. He's not the most talkative."

Sasori blinks owlishly back at her. "He tells you to shut up constantly? I don't know whether I should be amused or horrified."

"When did he say 'shut up'? Isago? Wait," She squints scrutinizing her student's face carefully, "No _way, _he actually _can _understand you! Even I have to judge by your expressions and that's because I'm your super awesome and hot sensei."

A rather...unhinged grin stretches across her face, not unlike the one that is usually seen on sadistic murderers stalking their next prey. Sasori isn't sure which one of them is her prey, him or Isago. He's really hoping it's the latter because Isago's sensei looks to be full of crazy and lacking in some much-needed sanity.

"Please stop." Appearing to out of his depth, Isago sidles closer to Sasori in an attempt to distance himself from his sensei.

_Oh no, you don't. I offer you a tribute._

As if hearing his internal screaming, Isago glances over at Sasori to give him an unimpressed 'please-help' look. Sasori pretends that they don't have a telepathic thing going on and he stares back blankly while sweating bullets. This is why he shouldn't go with strangers to _meet even more _strangers.

"Shush, you! I have a cute kid to coo over! I accept this sacrifice you've somehow obtained. How did you ever manage to get his parents to let go of him?" Sasori dodges her attempt to pinch his cheeks, scowling, "I know I would never let my kid out of my sight if he's _this_ cute!"

She captures him anyway, stupid jonin and their stupid ninja skills.

"My parents are dead. Six feet under. Hopefully. If they're buried. If they're not, I'll murder the one who dared to be so disrespectful to the deceased." That stopped her attempts to baby him immediately.

He's not sure this is a good thing because she has a different look in her eyes now, it's akin to someone finding out that their favorite plush is actually possessed by an evil spirit but with a whole lot more glee added in.

Sasori resists the urge to run away and hide with his grandmother's succulents. Maybe he can convince Isago to carry him, Isago is much faster than him with more experience. Then they can run far, _far_ away from this crazy woman.

"Wow. How old is he?"

Sasori sighs, today had started out so well too,

"I'm _five_."

He emphasizes the last word as if that'll make this crazy woman restrain from inflicting the full brunt of her madness on him. Sasori is sure that it won't work, but it doesn't he's not going to at least try.

"Ah. By any chance a relation to Chiyo-san?" She questions, more subdued this time, but still energetic enough to be annoying. And terrifying, her bubbliness is _terrifying_.

"Yes, why?"

Isago's sensei laughs, is she always so cheerful? Five minutes of her presence and she hasn't shown more than two modes: Cheerful and insanely happy. With an emphasis on the _insane_.

"Word around the street is that she has a prodigy grandson stashed away in her big house," She puts him through the same scrutiny Isago went through, "And from the way you talk, I can tell that you're definitely _something._"

Sasori snorts, that's an understatement if he's ever seen one. "Just something?"

She's back to grinning like a loon,

"Ha! I like you kid, call me Harue-sensei and we got a deal."

"What deal?" Sasori says slowly, he knows better than make deals he doesn't know the full terms of or have the most to benefit from it.

She shrugs. "Whatever reason Isago brought you here."

They both look at Isago expectantly, he blinks at the sudden shift in focus before responding in a matter of fact tone that _has _to have been practiced,

"Teach him fuinjutsu."

"Crazy dude says _what now?_" Sasori gives Isago an incredulous look. What in their meeting and conversation equated to _that_? All Sasori did was crash into him painfully.

Well, _Sasori _crashed painfully, Isago didn't appear to be any worse for wear.

_What is he made of? Bricks? Crashing into him is worse than crashing into that random old lady's wall._

Said teen ignores him and continues, staring his teacher down intently,

"He has potential. He's creative. And weird."

"I take offense to that. I'm _not _weird. I'm _unique._" He pokes Isago in the leg again. Inwardly, however, Sasori is flattered. He hasn't even known Isago for an hour and the teen has already labeled him as "weird". It must be a new record. Even the children at the park took a couple of visits to properly intimidate. Honestly, some of them—Komushi—still haven't gotten a hint, Sasori wants nothing to do with them and it's only his manners that prevent him from throwing a tantrum every time one of them decides to touch his hair. Yes, he knows that it's a very _vibrant red_, he also knows that it's very soft—Sasori didn't spend a good half hour playing with his hair that one time without figuring out that it's ridiculously _soft._

But. They. Won't. Stop. Touching. _His._ Hair.

"I'm liking him even more. Amusing, adorable, and just as eccentric as the rest of our little team. What do you say about learning how to make explosive tags, kiddo?" Harue-san smiles down at him, showing far more teeth than what is considered polite. Not that he's paying much attention to that now because he's busy discerning if she's serious when she mentioned explosive tags.

On one hand, he could definitely benefit, on another...he's not sure he'll survive.

"What team?" Isago inquires.

"You, me, myself, I, and most likely this little hellion. Don't deny it, I saw how your face lit up when I said explosive tag." Harue gestures to Sasori at the last bit. Sasori has to wonder why she only has one student, maybe it's an apprenticeship?

Wait, no, there are more important things to be considered, like how he'll get out of this encounter alive with his sanity and dignity intact.

"Sensei, _no. No explosive tags._" It would appear that Isago finally noticed _what _his sensei wanted to teach Sasori.

Harue-san pouts,

"Why not? Look at him! He's so excited!"

"He's _five._" With the way Isago's usually straight posture slumping ever so slightly, he'd already conceded defeat.

"Five and a budding little demon." Harue-san "reasons", Sasori still isn't sure whether he should take her epithets for him as compliments.

"Sensei, _no._" Isago tries again before Harue-san waves his objection off.

"Cool it, Isago, you aren't winning this one."

Isago deflates before turning to Sasori with concern in amber eyes,

"Please don't die."

_You and me both, Isago, you and me both._

* * *

**Five months later.**

Sasori reaches out to grab another sheet of paper to fold into flower, he blinks at the explosive tag in his hand in surprise. Had he run out of paper already?

Harue-sensei had made good on her words, he's now scarily efficient at creating explosive tags. Her training had been something straight out of hell, leaving a lasting mark on his subconscious. Which was apparently enough for him to randomly doodle explosive tags when he's not paying attention. A very bad habit to have when a stray strand of chakra can blow him sky high

Chiyo had been horrified, immediately taking away all of the tags he created and banning him from brushes and paper until he stops.

But now he's faced with a problem, he's reached the end of his secret origami paper supply.

Guess this explosive tag will just have to do.

_Origami is considered art, is it not? Will a folded up explosive tag still explode?_

He can't quite describe the emotion that settles in his chest, something three-eighths nostalgia, four-eighths sorrow, and one-eighth amusement.

_Oh. Art is an explosion. Happy now, Deidara?_

Even though it isn't possible because Deidara isn't even alive yet, he could have sworn that someone screamed "Katsu!" in the distance.

Seriously, his overly emotional brain has to stop, he's never even met Deidara beyond episodes of an anime he hadn't ever truly finished. Speaking of which, he should definitely start writing things down so he doesn't forget later.

If only Chiyo hadn't expropriated all of his paper.

* * *

**Previously:**

Harue-sensei grins demonically, enjoying Sasori's impending doom,

"Isago, you know what to do when the brat messes up a seal."

"Shit, owww!" Sasori curses, holding his abused knee. Thank kami Isago is considerate enough to use blunted kunai. He would have been kneecapped otherwise, but wait, why did Isago aim for his knee in the first place?

Oh right, he'd been taught by Harue-sensei, brutal and violent attacks should come as second nature by now.

"Another one for saying a bad word. Seriously, how is he five again?"

"Motherf—" Sasori tries to muffle the curse that slips out anyway. It's hard to pay attention when both his knees are trembling.

"Another, Isago." Harue-sensei practically _sings._

Isago is devoid of any visible reaction as ever, but Sasori can tell he's nervous, they have this weird communication thing,

"Yes, Sensei." '**I'm sorry.'**

"It's fine." Sasori wheezes in between painful breaths. They've been saying that to each other a lot lately.

_Son of a_—

Isago sends another kunai aimed at his elbow this time, thankfully, Sasori manages to dodge this one,

"No cursing, little scorpion."

Harue-sensei just continues cackling in the background.

* * *

"This one looks horrible! What is your calligraphy? Fuinjutsu is an art! You went ahead and desecrated it with your chicken scratch!" Harue-sensei screeches in rage, her arms waving wildly as if it would make Sasori understand her frustration.

He doesn't, as long as the seal works, who cares about how it looks? It's not like puppetry where everything is a show, an act put up for the audience. In that case, aesthetics are _everything._

"Of course, Harue-sensei."

She stops her hand waving and bend down to look him in the eye intensely, it doesn't make her appear to be more serious, just more deranged.

"If you fail to impress me with the next one, it's target practice with you and Isago."

Target practice means that he gets to run around and try not to get hit by Isago's blunted weapons. To be fair, Isago did try to miss purposefully in the beginning to spare him the pain. But Harue-sensei was having none of that and used both of them for targets instead. She didn't bother using blunted weapons and her trip wire was absolute hell, Sasori doesn't even know when she managed to get it everywhere. By everywhere, he means _everywhere_.

She didn't actually try to hit him...that much.

Small mercies.

_Deep breath, Sasori, once you learn this, you never have to see her again. Think of all the explosive tags you'll be able to gleefully launch at your enemies._

* * *

"Now _this_ is what I call a proper explosive tag!" Harue-sensei crows happily.

Isago gives him a small nod in acknowledgment,

"Congratulations." '**On your freedom from our crazy sensei'**

Before Sasori can reply, Harue-sensei's focus is back on him,

"Don't think you're off the hook, kiddo, I'll be making sure you're continuing your calligraphy practice. Who knows, you might have a surprise as your jonin sensei."

Oh no. _NOPE. Not happening._ He is not coming back for _round two_!

"Please don't Harue-sensei."

Harue-sensei pouts, but her eyes are still glittering with unholy mirth,

"Awww, kid, but you're already calling me sensei!"

"No." He needs to stop this from progressing into an actual plan. Otherwise, he would actually get Harue-sensei for his jonin-sensei when he graduates.

Sasori still hasn't had the chance to get back at her for the glitter. When he got better at dodging, she started throwing glitter bombs so even if he dodges them, the area effect still catches him off guard and he's covered in hideously clashing colors. At the end of the day, he'd look like a disco ball and spend the rest of the evening sitting in a bath trying to get all the glitter out of his precious hair.

It does, however, make him stronger. While Harue-sensei has her bombs filled with glitter, Sasori knows that the enemy will have something much more lethal. Therefore, having the ability to react quickly and assess the situation might save his life in the future.

But that doesn't mean he has to enjoy having glitter everywhere,

"I need to convert you from puppetry to the fuinjutsu corps!"

He stops, surprised at the new information,

"The fuinjutsu corps exist?"

Harue-sensei continues on oblivious to his confusion, obviously ecstatic Sasori is taking interest in her division,

"Yup! Suna's pretty well known for its fuinjutsu!"

_Really now, I wonder what changed. Canon always painted Suna as dismal in the fuinjutsu department. Gaara never got a proper seal from my grandmother._

* * *

**Yay, new character!**

**Harue-sensei will be important later, she's just Sasori's self-appointed sensei at the moment... (evil laughter)**

**Anyway, I might not be able to write as much in the coming weeks due to going to a sleepaway camp for a couple of weeks. Just a heads up when I disappear for some time.**

**I still can't figure out some future plot points as well as how to make it all work out...hopefully, inspiration strikes or I have to make excuses for why some things are happening. But all that is after the third war so we have some time.**

**Academy will happen roughly around chapter ten, maybe a little later if I take more time to flesh out the first arc.**

**While Sasori _is_ still five, does anyone have any ideas for pairings? (Crack ships work, I'll probably just make them an omake chapter if I like them enough.) I know I haven't introduced many characters yet, but that should change once the Academy arc kicks off. I personally don't have very many pairings in mind (none at all actually...wait there is one but...hmmm...) and the fic won't be focusing on it, but I'll be happy to take suggestions!**

**Thanks!**

**Mizu**


	9. Artist's Anguish

"Little scorpion." Isago greets from his seat in a food stall. Sasori frowns, he's not sure when Isago had decided to call him that, but it stuck. Harue-sensei thought it was a _great _idea, but Isago was uncooperative for weeks until she stopped using his nickname for Sasori.

It's basically exclusive to Isago.

Eh, that's fine, Isago is allowed to be strange.

"Sacchan! What's up?" So maybe he's petty and this is revenge for giving him such a redundant nickname, but he won't be the only one who's put through the indignity. If he has to suffer, he's going to pull Isago down with him.

"Sa...chan?" Isago isn't very expressive at the best of times, but even to an inexperienced eye, one could tell that he's faintly displeased.

Sasori plops down in the seat next to his tentative friend for the past month, they'd bonded through Harue-sensei's horrible yet effective teaching and their unusual ability to understand each other.

It's like they have some sort of telepathic bond.

But that doesn't make sense.

"You insist on calling me 'little scorpion' so I'm coming up with my own embarrassing nickname for you."

"Hn." And that was that. No complaints or further questioning. Isago is nice like that sometimes, he doesn't try to question things too much and prefers watching Sasori cause chaos from the sidelines. If Sasori is really good, he can convince Isago to join in with the chaos-causing fun. Harue-sensei will always join in if she's around and not taking high-level missions.

"So what godforsaken reason do you have for dragging me out here at _noon?_ Do you know how bad Suna's sun is for skin? I'm going to age prematurely at this rate!" Sasori slumps onto the sand worn table provided by stall while Isago orders something that looks straight out of a nightmare.

"Is that...a tentacle?!" He points dramatically at the appendage, he could have sworn it twitched.

"It's seafood," Isago responds absentmindedly after he swallows, Sasori can only watch in fascination as his friend effortlessly consumes the horror food.

"That's disgusting."

Isago's response is distinctively peeved,

"Seafood isn't disgusting."

"Yeah, well, you know where we are?" Sasori gestures grandly around him, Isago remains blankly confused, "We're in Suna, that's what! Suna is a desert!"

"Obviously." Isago continues to finish his food.

Sasori is getting more desperate, Isago needs to stop eating that tentacled monstrosity _right now, _

"The seafood is imported!"

Isago doesn't respond, instead, setting aside his empty bowl with a raised eyebrow.

Sasori slumps back onto the table, head clutched in his small hands,

"Sacchan! Who knows where it's been!"

"You're overreacting." Isago pats his head patronizingly with false concern.

"Don't blame me when you die from food poisoning," Sasori glares balefully at the teen, "Since I'm a nice friend, I accept my share from your will graciously."

"You ordering?" Isago ignores his dramatics, already used to his brand of madness. If his friend can get used to Harue-sensei, then they can get used to him, nobody's crazier than Harue-sensei. Nobody. Absolutely _nobody_.

Harue-sensei: _Let's make an invisible obstacle course from barrier seals all over Suna that's specifically keyed to eensy weensy little Sasori and make him run it but let's not tell him about it. We can watch him crash into things randomly with popcorn and laugh. If he curses, then it's target practice while running the course. Let's keep it up for an entire month so he can learn to detect barriers!_

"No." No way is he going to eat in some random food stall, who knows what other tentacled monstrosities they may have lurking around? Sasori isn't familiar with the laws concerning food safety in Suna if it even has any. Suna better have laws dedicated to food or else it'd be an outrage, this is why he makes sure he knows where and how his food is prepared.

"We're leaving." Isago pays for the food and walks out, leaving Sasori to follow his friend hastily. They weave through the bustling streets of Suna, it can actually get pretty crowded when the sun isn't trying it's best to give everyone a heatstroke. Mornings and afternoons are generally pretty busy, most people except for the shinobi take a break at noon. There's an evening market too, most of Suna's business is conducted at night when the temperatures are more agreeable.

"You still haven't told me why you dragged me out here."

Isago doesn't answer, instead, he takes Sasori's hand and dragging him down the street before making a left turn. The two pass by colorful stalls of food, clothing, jewelry, and other various odds and ends.

"Should I be worried? If it turns out to be _another_ Harue-sensei, I swear I'll never follow you anywhere again." Sasori doesn't know what he'll do if there are two Harue-senseis. The world is likely to turn sideways and move forty-two miles to the left. He keeps his eyes on the back of his friend so they don't accidentally get separated if Isago suddenly decides to stop holding his hand. Which is highly unlikely, he threw a fit that one time the teen managed to lose him in a crowd and now Isago simply drags him everywhere.

It's nice to have someone care about his opinions and idiosyncrasies. Isago picked up pretty quickly his aversion to people and does their best to avoid situations that aggravate him. Usually, this consists of making sure Sasori isn't left alone with a crowd of people.

"Relax," Isago replies, taking another turn, this time to the right. They continue without any mishaps in companionable silence before stopping in front of a store.

Sasori squints dubiously,

"You know, somehow I don't feel very relaxed."

Isago sighs and pushes him inside,

"Happy birthday."

"What?" Sasori blinks in confusion and surprise, "How did you know it was my birthday? I never told you."

Then realization dawns,

"Wait. It's my _birthday today._"

"You forgot." Isago retorts flatly in disbelief.

"I was...preoccupied." His excuse is flimsy, he forgot his own birthday, how sad is that?

Isago sighs, moving out of the doorway so other people could enter, herding him over to a random aisle,

"Just get something."

Sasori finally takes notice exactly what type of store they ended up in, and lit up with excitement.

"Is that moisturizer?"

In the background, Sasori's sure Isago is facepalming and questioning his life choices. But he's not paying attention to Isago right now because he also spotted shampoo on a shelf on the other side of the store.

He turns to his friend,

"I hope you don't mind me buying the entire store, Sacchan!"

Isago's deer-in-headlights expression is enough to make his entire day. It has nothing to do with him cackling as he speeds down the aisles in ecstasy.

Nothing at all.

As it turns out, Suna is famous for its various self-care products. The desert heat and unrelenting weather conditions created a need for ways to counteract them. Sasori is pretty sure he ended up in heaven. Isago is now elevated to best friend status as the teen follows him belatedly with worry. This store is now automatically his favorite and today is also the _best day ever_.

In the end, he takes pity on his friend, though the annoyed glances the cashier sends the duo might've also factored into it.

Sasori dumps his items in front of the girl behind the counter.

"Are these for your mother?"

He stares at her in wide-eyed horror,

"No. My parents are dead, these are for _me._"

"His birthday." Isago supplies helpfully from behind Sasori.

The cashier gives both of them an incredulous look,

"Okay…"

He and Isago exit the store soon after while he gushes over his birthday present,

"You're the bestest friend ever!"

"I'm glad." Something about the way Isago speaks draws Sasori's attention away from his present.

"Are you...alright?"

Isago stops in his tracks to sigh,

"I'm leaving tomorrow."

Sasori's blood freezes in his veins.

No.

That can't be right.

Funny how three words can choke his happiness,

_It's poison. A poison that's spreading slowly, depriving his lungs of air and tearing out his heart. Terror is an effective toxin with no antidote._

He'll keep that in mind for future reference.

But he can't deny it.

Isago is a fully fledged shinobi and Suna needs more fodder to throw at its enemies. Sometimes...if he tries hard enough, he can ignore the Second Shinobi war waging around him.

But no longer.

_Tick tock, Sasori. Your time is running out and so are your choices. Make your move._

"Where?" Sasori can see that Isago knows he isn't asking for the location to which his friend is leaving, that much is obvious, but where Isago's being _deployed_.

"Front lines." Isago pauses as if he's unsure if he should say more, "Against Konoha."

"I see." No Sasori doesn't, he's having a hard time seeing beyond the blur of tears at the moment. A hand reaches out to clutch Isago's forlornly. It is still small and childish yet far more agile than most children from hours spent practicing his calligraphy and making his increasingly intricate origami. He can make them with one hand now, he's working on making two different ones with both hands at the same time. Sasori had wanted to show Isago, but his achievement now feels hollow and leaves a taste of ash on his tongue.

"Harue-sensei too."

And suddenly, the ground doesn't exist anymore. Just inky blackness that threatens to take over his vision, Isago regards him with concern hidden in amber eyes. Sasori shakes his head to clear it, it wouldn't do for him to be overly emotional. Besides, he shouldn't cause more stress. He doesn't deserve to be worried over when Isago already has so much pressure.

He shouldn't act like a child.

Sasori _isn't_ a child.

"Front lines too?"

"Yes."

He doesn't say much more than that. The passing people going about their daily lives conflicts with the turmoil he feels inside. How can they be so calm, so happy? There is a war going on, can't they see? Well, it's not as if he has much to say since he'd also been one of the happily oblivious villagers.

Now, he can see the effects of the war mirrored in the people of Suna. Shinobi are constantly flickering in and out of view on the rooftops, a heavy aura hangs over everyone. The people he sees around him are worn and washed out, tired but still making the best of their lives.

_How have I been so blind?_

When they finally arrive at the gates of the Compound, Isago turns to him again,

"Don't wait for me."

Sasori knows.

He knows it's Isago begging him to not worry and should he return in a black scroll that's reserved solely for corpses...Sasori shouldn't mourn for him.

Maybe in another lifetime, he'd accept it as a part of his new role without a struggle. But this isn't that life. Isago is his friend. His _best _friend. His _only_ friend. Fate might be cruel, but that just means he'll have to be crueler.

"I won't." He promises, Isago nods in satisfaction and leaves him there. He watches the back of his friend fade from view, his mind still in a haze.

Sasori smiles grimly, the expression wrong on his youthful features,

"I plan on joining you, Sacchan. You're the one that will have to wait, but I promise I won't take long."

Maybe his plan _had _been solely survival, he'd hoped to graduate late and avoid the war.

But no longer because he has a different goal now.

Next time, he won't be watching Isago's back recede from his view, next time they'll be standing back to back facing the opposing shinobi.

Together.

_I promised, didn't I? I wouldn't let you die._

* * *

**Oh boy, let the angst begin. (Only mild angst, don't worry)**

**Sasori has his one and only friend along with his hateful (beloved, really) sensei sent to the front with Konoha. (Also the one that ate his parents and spat out their corpses a la one Sakumo Hatake)**

**He's not okay with this.**

**It's a _wonderful_ birthday present, don't you just _love_ finding out your precious people might die?**

**(I hate seafood, it might be obvious)**

**Also, I realize that most people might not visit my profile, but I do have discord now. Here's the link **Aux5Q8B

**Mizu**


	10. Artist's Resolve

Isago left yesterday. Sasori's birthday had been two days before.

He's still so _weak_. All of his work and planning mean little when faced with his impending Academy enlistment. Speaking of which, he needs to talk to his guardians about registering for the Academy as soon as possible. He can't do anything if he doesn't become genin first, and that is impossible without joining the Academy and graduating. Sasori can no longer afford to take a back seat and expect to come out undamaged. The only way to keep himself together is to get strong enough to protect those that are precious to him.

"Starting today...the kid's gloves will have to come off." He says to no one particular in the empty quietness of his room from his position curled up on his futon. Sasori hasn't left his room for the past few days. While he's not self-destructive enough to refuse meals, he needs time to himself. Time to think and plan his next actions carefully because Sasori knows that he's maneuvering through a minefield at this point.

He has twenty-four hours in a day. Seven days a week. It is currently the eleventh of November. The spring registration for the Academy is the tenth of February, he has exactly ninety-one days to prepare and he's going to make the best of it.

As a child, he can probably get away with eight hours of sleep per day, that leaves him sixteen hours to do everything else. Sasori knows that he'll have to subtract time for meals, but he should still have about fourteen hours a day to work with. Fourteen hours of training sounds doable, he can balance the amount of theory work and physical training to make sure he doesn't collapse from exhaustion.

Which leaves him to assess his strengths and weaknesses, he's decent at fuinjutsu and has a lot of knowledge on the theory of puppets. He doesn't have any actual experience in wielding them or making them, but that can be easily remedied. Sasori can make explosive tags, scratch that, he's _very good_ at making explosive tags. He can also make some barrier seals, storage seals, and a large variety of seal traps His chakra control is decent, but it can be so much better.

His physical attributes are completely shit.

No endurance or strength, his agility and speed are the only things he has going for him due to Harue-sensei's target practice sessions. He also has his flexibility and that's because he started doing stretches with help from Chiyo on a whim.

So what Sasori needs to fix are his stamina and speed, maybe he can get his great-uncle to teach him some kata. He'll have to multitask somewhere and he can probably fit in chakra control with exercising. Multitasking would be very helpful for when he has to control multiple puppets at once.

Sasori can go for a run in the morning after stretching and work on his chakra control as well as expanding his reserves by using up almost all of his chakra while running. It helps that using chakra to enhance his speed can make him more efficient at it. He'll eat breakfast once he gets back from exhausting his chakra reserves and then he'll spend the next few hours reading up on poisons, strategy, and whatever he can get his hands on that'll be useful. Perhaps there are some books in the Library on psychology? Somewhere during all that he'll take a break for lunch and then practice his fuinjutsu some, hopefully, there are books on it in the Library so he can learn to make more than just storage seals, explosive tags, and basic barriers.

He sighs, hugging his knees closer to his body,

"I'll have to convince Grandma or Jii-sama to teach me how to make chakra strings. Or...I can figure out how to do it myself."

Sasori has a few theories on how to make chakra strings and with his semi-sentient chakra, he's pretty sure he can do it.

"I just hope I don't burn out, that'll be a setback I don't have the time for."

And now? Now would be a great time to start, no time like the present. He pushes himself off his futon and shakily stands. A deep breath later, he ignores the disarray that he had left his room in and steps out into the hallway.

Almost immediately, he hears his grandmother conversing loudly with his great-uncle. Curious, he pads down the hallway closer to the sound of their voices. It makes his job easier, he had intended to find one of them to teach him Taijutsu.

"He's been like this for the past two days! Always in his room and refusing to come out." Chiyo's frantic voice echoes down the hall, "He won't tell me why he's like this."

Sasori winces, he doesn't like causing other people to worry about him. He'll have to make it up to his grandmother later. Despite how they disagree over certain matters, she still has his best interests at heart.

Ebizō's speaks slowly. "Perhaps...Sasori-kun has remembered something better left forgotten?"

"You don't mean...his parents?" Chiyo responds, horrified, "You don't mean to say he'll...revert back to how he was before his amnesia?"

Sasori decides to nip this unfortunate conversation at the bud and opens the door loudly,

"Grandma, Jii-sama, I need one of you to teach me taijutsu."

They both turn to him in surprise,

"Ah, so you have finally ventured out of your room at last, Sasori-kun"

"Sasori!" Chiyo hurries to embrace him, his eyebrow twitches at her loud tone but decides that it's no use trying to convince her to stop hugging him so much, "What happened? We were so worried!"

"Isago got deployed to the front with Konoha."

His grandmother pulls back to examine him with alarm,

"I...did not know you two were so close."

Isago had visited the Compound once or twice much to the joy of Chiyo because Sasori had _finally _made a friend. Other than that, they spent most of their rendezvous in Training Ground thirteen.

"He's my best friend."

Ebizō coughs, changing the topic to something less depressing,

"What is this about taijutsu? I thought I'd satisfied your incessant need to learn new techniques with chakra control exercises."

Sasori waves a flippant hand,

"I got those down after the first couple of days, give me more credit. Isago had been keeping me busy by dragging me around Suna so I didn't have time for learning anything new."

At the reminder of his friend's absence, Sasori's expression closes off a little,

"Which is why I want to learn taijutsu because I'm enrolling in the Academy come February."

"Well, I suppose we can have you start a little early, you'll just be ahead of your peers in the Academy. It doesn't hurt to be prepared." Ebizō considers his great nephew's request slowly.

Chiyo is less agreeable,

"Ebizō! He has years to prepare, he'll learn it along with his peers eventually anyway! He might even make some more friends while he's at it."

The "make those friends to replace Isago when he comes back in a scroll for corpses" isn't mentioned but it hangs heavy in the air. Sasori scowls, he's not going to the Academy to make friends, much less ones to replace Isago who will _not_ be coming back dead, thank you very much. If he has his way, he'll graduate in less than a year. He _needs_ to graduate in less than a year.

Ebizō gives him a knowing look.

"Ane-ue, Sasori-kun is a curious boy. It wouldn't hurt to start him on the basics, besides, he has nothing else to do all day."

Chiyo however, isn't one to go down without a fight,

"Sasori should be enjoying his childhood! He's five! He can spend more time out of the Compound getting to know more people his age!"

"Number one, human interaction is overrated. Number two, I hate the sun. Number three, everything else is boring anyway." Sasori interjects before the argument can escalate further.

Chiyo pins him with a look,

"Are you absolutely sure?"

He sighs tiredly, it's always like this,

"Yes, Grandma. You know I'm not normal by any means."

"If you are sure...then…" Chiyo trails off uncertainly.

Sasori knows that if he wants to convince her, now would be a good time to drive his final point home,

"If I'm stronger, I can survive better in the future."

"Sasori…" Chiyo tries to reason with him.

"It's fine, Grandma." He says, a lie to cover up his true intentions.

"Very well, we can start you on the standard taijutsu style Suna teaches." His great-uncle finishes the discussion, "You will start tomorrow."

Sasori beams,

"Yes, Jii-sama!"

Ebizō is the one that sighs this time,

"No need for formalities, Sasori-kun."

"Never!" He laughs, running out of the room to further his plans.

_I refuse to be left behind._

* * *

"Patience, Sasori-kun," Ebizō admonishes, readjusting his footwork, "You will never get it right by rushing."

"Of course, Jii-sama." Sasori pants tiredly, they've been at this for two hours now and his limbs are shaking. The only reason why his great-uncle hasn't forced him to stop yet is probably due to Ebizō's curiosity of how determined he is.

He's _very _determined. As such, Sasori reaches for his chakra, circulating it through his body and hoping that it will do something about his fatigue. It doesn't quite understand what he's requesting, but tentatively augments his muscles for more strength.

Useful, but not what he wanted, being stronger does not get rid of the pain.

_Fix me. _

The chakra withdraws back to his core, confused, before reaching out again and trying to knit the tiny tears in his muscles back together. It finds that simply gluing the tears closed isn't permanent, so it simply hovers angrily, frustrated at being unable to complete his request. Then the chakra reaches for the muscle cells altering them and duplicating to fill in the spaces. It increases the number of fibers while making them thinner, pulling on the other parts of him for building materials.

Sasori stops his movement to stare at an arm while the skin writhes from the alterations happening within.

_This was maybe a bad idea._

Still unfinished, the chakra sends him a request for more 'building materials' as taking more from him would do more harm than good.

_What have I done?_

"What's wrong, Sasori-kun?"

He looks up and smiles,

"Nothing, Jii-sama."

_I'll feed you later._

The chakra gives a happy bounce.

* * *

He's hungry again, he's always hungry these days. Sasori sighs around a mouthful of food, it's not his fault really. Sure, maybe he shouldn't be using so much chakra so quickly and then force his body to pump out more, but it's not causing any problems so it's fine. He's not attempting forbidden jutsus either, the chakra he's using is spent on augmenting his speed when he goes out for his daily laps around the village.

And...when it decides to upgrade his body for random reasons.

Okay, fine. Sasori tripped off of a cliff from exhaustion, but it was a _small_ cliff and his chakra fixed him up afterward so his torn clothes were the only issue. The fractures he got all over his body and the pain were quickly amended. He didn't ask for it to completely rework his bones, although the newfound durability is much appreciated.

He's fine.

* * *

**Alright, I know this chapter is a bit late. I just arrived at camp yesterday and I'm posting this during my lunch break. I will try to post more chapters, but I will definitely not have any time to write any new ones.**

**I'll be back near the end of this month.**

**Meanwhile, cheers!**

**Mizu**


	11. Artist's Annoyance

Sasori stares at the ninja wire he recently bought with trepidation,

"Well, here goes nothing."

He draws on his chakra, pulling it from his core and sends it down the wires tied around each of his fingers. It stutters and flickers before fizzling out completely.

Sasori gets a faint impression of a question as his chakra attempts to do as he'd ordered again.

_Chakra strings._ He draws up a mental image and a description of what he wants. Sometimes, it helps with his chakra understanding, sometimes it doesn't. Usually, it's because he isn't specific enough, but this time seems to be one of the times that it does understand. The concept of chakra strings isn't all that complex.

A happy bounce.

Steady blue chakra flows from his fingertips and down the ninja wire, lengthening and solidifying. Sasori twitches his fingers experimentally, the chakra strings move around with him.

"Interesting."

He cuts off the chakra flow, watching the blue glow faded from the wires. Then, he unties the wires he'd tied to his fingers.

_This time without the wires._

Chakra wells up from his core and pushes out his fingertips again before stopping, confused. There is no ninja wire to guide it this time, nothing to run through.

_Threads, wires, strings, same concept._ Sasori reminds.

It continues to wobble uncertainly, pieces of it floating off and dissipating as his chakra tentatively reaches out thin filaments.

_A thread is made up of smaller strands twisted and woven together._

More filaments sprout, weaving and twisting around each other, using itself as support to build off of.

_Condense, wind tighter together._

The thread attached to his forefinger shrinks upon itself, taking a brighter shade of blue. The tendrils making up the chakra thread become thinner and knits closer together.

Sasori is left staring at a single chakra string drooping from his finger.

"Well, that was easier than expected."

_Thanks._

He gets two happy bounces this time.

_How about we try the Rasengan?_

A confused flop.

_Actually, no. Let's not. If I learn that then I'll be tempted to use it and I'm not going to explain to Konoha why I have their Yondaime's signature jutsu. Besides, Minato isn't even Hokage yet._

A wobble in agreement.

_You don't even know what I'm talking about, do you?_

Happy bounce.

Sasori sighs in exasperation.

_You really are a puppy, you know that?_

* * *

A book on poisons lies next to a scroll on psychology. Sasori scribbles notes onto the notepad he has next to him. Behind him is a sheaf of papers with even more notes, but this time with diagrams to accompany them.

The clock on his wall reads ten thirty-six.

* * *

Sasori compares his work to the diagram on fuinjutsu characters he has open before him, a scroll on fuinjutsu theory half buried under practice pages.

He clicks his tongue in annoyance, the last brushstroke for 'fire' is stretched longer than it should be, he fishes out the scroll from underneath the papers.

"Of course it would explode. It always explodes when something is wrong."

Then he remembers another one of his experimental seals he messed up.

It turned the ground around it an eye-searing pink even after he destroyed the seal. Digging up the bright pink sand didn't help either because the unholy pinkness seems to stretch on forever.

Sasori gave up after he dug himself a ten feet hole and the ground was _still_ pink.

It's just another part of the desert, no one will notice or care.

Probably.

_Two days later, he sees a genin team poking at the pink sand with a kunai. He spins around on his heel and heads the opposite direction to find a new place to test out his seals where he won't be distracted._

* * *

He launches himself off of the rooftop, hoping that he put enough chakra into it that he'll reach the other side safely. To Sasori's growing horror and dismay, he falls slightly short. In his panic, his chakra _twists _and pours out of him.

His fall is abruptly stopped by an intricate lattice-work of chakra suspending him in midair.

_Chakra strings?_

Heartbeat and breathing calming down, Sasori stares at the web preventing him from crashing into the street painfully.

"What the _fuck,_ kid." He wiggles awkwardly to turn and see a shinobi perched on a wall next to him, arms still outstretched in preparation to catch him.

"Don't tell Grandma," He blurts out, "She'll never let me out of the Compound again."

The Suna-nin continues to stare at him as if he grew another head and it started babbling about Jashin.

"_Ever. _I will never see the light of day!" Sasori pouts, giving his best kicked puppy impression. The numerous amounts of chakra strings holding him up ruins the innocent, non-threatening look he was going for.

"Kid, I don't even _know_ who your grandma is."

_Now would be a good time to let me down. Gently._

His chakra obediently obliges, the threads holding him up slowly decreasing and lengthening to lower him down. Eventually, they all disappear and he's back on his feet, locking in a staring contest with the baffled ninja.

"You saw nothing. This never happened." He says emphatically.

The shinobi snorts, pulled out of their shock,

"Yeah, right. Forget a baby turned himself into a spider."

Sasori crosses his arms and huffs,

"I'm a _scorpion_. You call me a baby again and I will hit you."

"Now _that_ is something I expect from a kid. Not," The shinobi gestures to where the web used to be, "Whatever that thing was."

"Yup, okay. Bye!" With that, Sasori wills his chakra to pool underneath his feet and he's launched forward quickly. He doesn't bother looking back, even after hearing the man behind him squawk loudly.

"How do you not have chakra exhaustion?! Kid, even adults will drop after whatever the _fuck_ you just pulled."

A hand wraps around his scarf and he's stopped abruptly, hands clutching at his neck as his air is suddenly cut off.

His chakra does not take that kindly and wraps angrily around the offending appendage, pulling tighter and tighter despite the pained yell coming from behind Sasori.

"S-stop, stop!" He manages to choke out between coughing.

_Stop! You'll hurt him!_

It halts the tightening of the chakra strings wrapped around the shinobi's arm, but it doesn't let go or loosen.

It's angry. Angry and scared. Angry because the man had hurt him and scared because he's also scared.

"_What in the __**holy fuck**__. You could have sliced my arm to __**pieces**__!_" The hand lets go and he falls to his knees, still coughing slightly but now able to see the full extent of the damage he'd dealt.

"_Get it off, getitoff, __**getitoff!**_" The shinobi grits out, twitching.

_Let go, please._

The strands of chakra dissipate and return to him before settling sullenly in his core.

"I-I'm...sorry."

The shinobi's nostrils flare,

"Oh yeah? Look what you did to my arm you _freak_!"

Blood flows sluggishly out of shallow cuts and patches of the sleeve is stained crimson. All in all, nothing too serious that won't heal in a couple of days.

Maybe he'd been guilty about the way he lost control, but it wasn't his fault that _someone_ decided to grab his scarf and nearly _choked_ him to death from the momentum of his jump.

"Next time, don't grab a _six-year-old by the scarf while they are moving at high speeds._"

The shinobi doesn't listen and yanks Sasori forward by the collar with a kunai raised to his throat,

"As if you are a six-year-old, Konoha trash. I can smell an intruder from a mile away, you're getting turned over to the T&I by yours truly."

Sasori doesn't bother to respond, hands clenching angrily.

_Well, you're in for a surprise when Councilmember Chiyo Yōkō. Grandma is going to be really mad at you._

* * *

A man from the T&I division of Suna stares down at Sasori, looking skeptical as the idiot who brought him here is waxing poetic about how they gloriously sniffed out a spy.

"Yes, Tamura, Konoha would send a _five-year-old_ as a spy."

Sasori raises a finger,

"I'm six, shinobi-san."

"What's your name?" The interrogator ignores his comment.

"I'm Sasori."

A certain idiot is ignoring both of them and continuing his rant,

"That's right! Konoha is full of child prodigies and they're all heartless bastards. Why would they care about the loss of a few cannon fodder?"

Sasori turns to the idiot who won't shut up,

"Number one, child prodigies are highly prized. It would be wiser to make sure they live as they can become even greater as an adult. It is unlikely that Konoha is full of idiots like you. Number two, it is physically impossible to live without a heart. Number three—"

"Enough, both of you." The interrogator orders curtly.

"Of course, shinobi-san." Sasori agrees.

"You," The man gestures to Sasori, "Apparently stole Suna's chakra string technique and used it in impossible ways without collapsing from chakra exhaustion."

Sasori sighs,

"That would be what he said."

"You little—!" The idiot, Tamura, screeches in indignation.

"Shut up, Tamura, you're not needed here so close the door on your way out," The interrogator returns his attention to Sasori, "I asked you to confirm his allegation."

"No. That isn't what happened." Sasori knows that he's right, he didn't steal any techniques from Suna. He's _from_ Suna and he figured it out himself. The other part may be true, but it wasn't specified _which_ part of the question he had to answer.

It's not a lie, just a partial truth.

The shinobi leans closer,

"But that's not all, is it? Answer the question completely. Or I will have to be...stricter."

Sasori stares at the man for a long moment before responding,

"If you harm a single hair on my head, grandma Chiyo will have _your_ head on a pike."

"Chiyo-sama? You're her grandson?" The shinobi doesn't even blink, "Why would I believe you?"

Sasori grins, a smile with all teeth,

"Because I'm supposed to be back before lunch and she placed a tracking seal on me in case I got...misplaced. I'm sure my great-uncle will be here soon to retrieve me as Grandma is currently busy with her duties at the Council."

The door to the interrogation room opens, a frantic shinobi peering around the door,

"Sugimoto-san! Ebizō-sama is at the door threatening to break it down if we don't tell him why his great-nephew is at the T&I department!"

Sasori whispers softly under his breath,

"The cavalry has arrived."

Sugimoto, to his credit, acts as if the other shinobi was simply commenting on the weather,

"Let him in."

"There will be no need, Sugimoto-san," Ebizō says from behind the other shinobi who squeaks in surprise and quickly scurries off.

"Hello, Jii-sama!" Sasori waves cheerfully from his chair.

Ebizō gives him a look,

"You never cease to amaze me, Sasori-kun. What did you do now?"

"Ebizō-sama. He has been accused of being a Konoha spy sent to steal Suna's techniques," Sugimoto responds to the question tiredly, "However, other than being purposefully unforthcoming, he doesn't seem to have done any actual harm."

"He _choked_ me." Sasori snarls angrily, now he had an attentive audience. Idiot already got a chance to rant, it's his turn to do the same.

"Who?" Ebizō is quick to frown.

"That Tamura guy. I was minding my own business when I tripped and caught myself using chakra strings—" Sasori winced at the raised eyebrow his great-uncle gives him at 'chakra strings', "—he was about to catch me when I fell. Which was nice of him, but I didn't need it. He seemed to find me using chakra strings _strange_—"

His great-uncle coughs,

"What a concept, a six-year-old using chakra strings proficiently enough to stop a fall when most won't even manage a single string until _nine_."

Sasori stops, and then looks down before mumbling,

"Not my fault that it was ridiculously easy."

"Sasori-kun, I didn't even _teach you, _you figured it out by yourself and you call it _easy?_" Ebizō seems shocked at his admittance.

"Well, it only took four tries, two times with the wire and two times without." Sasori is very pointedly not looking at his great-uncle.

"Impossible," Sugimoto breathes.

Ebizō shares a look with him,

"Not for him."

Sugimoto shakes his head,

"He's six?"

Ebizō's tone is equal parts aggravated and equal parts proud,

"When you live with a prodigy like Sasori-kun, you find that he has a knack for doing the impossible in the most infuriating way possible."

"If what you are saying is true then Suna has never had a prodigy quite like him, he might be enough to rival the Sannin someday. What field is he going into?" Sugimoto surveys Sasori, Sasori sincerely hopes the man isn't going to pull a Harue-sensei and try to pull him into T&I.

"Puppetry, and I don't think so. Don't even joke about it." Sasori interrupts, better make sure rumors don't start because even the walls have ears and ninjas are horrible gossips, "Besides, I haven't even gotten to the part in which the idiot decides that grabbing a child moving at high velocity by the scarf was going to get him anything but injured."

"He grabbed you by the _scarf?_" Ebizō isn't frowning anymore, he's glaring, "I thought you caught yourself?"

Sasori shrugs,

"I did. Then I finished telling him I was fine and then shunshined away. He grabbed me by the scarf; I choked. Although I didn't mean to tear up his arm quite so badly, I just wanted to squeeze it enough for him to _let go so I can breathe._"

"And?" Ebizō's tone is dangerous, very dangerous.

Sasori doesn't regret throwing Tamura under the bus one bit,

"Well, he decided I must be a spy and hauled me off over here by the collar to get interrogated."

"He's _dead_. If Ane-ue doesn't get to him first, I will." Ebizō declares with much venom.

It's nice to have people that care about him so much. Now if he had Isago and Harue-sensei, he'd be happy. Alas, the world has other plans so he will have to be happy with two of his precious people sent away to the front lines.

"Jii-sama, I want to eat first. Then you can collaborate with Grandma on murdering the fool."

Ebizō nods,

"Very well, Sasori-kun."

* * *

**Yup, I made up a last name for Chiyo: 洋紅 (Carmine) Yōkō**

**I am still super busy at camp, so yeah.**

**More description on Sasori's weird chakra.**

**Mizu**


	12. Artist's Indoctrination

It is February tenth, Chiyo and Ebizō walk with him to the Academy entrance. Chiyo had requested a morning off from the Council meetings specifically for this reason. Sasori survived her worrying all through breakfast as she made sure he had his kunai, shuriken, mesh shirt, and a thousand other random things.

He has on the standard closed-toed shoes of Suna's shinobi. The anime was wrong about the sandals, no fool goes to a desert with sandals. The sand gets _everywhere_ and chafes the skin enough to cause very painful blisters. The shoes are more like boots, but much thinner and more flexible, allowing for silent footsteps and much-needed breathability. Sasori has the open end of the shoes firmly bandaged to prevent sand from sneaking its way inside.

Sasori is wearing the mesh underneath a tan shirt, with shorts of a slightly darker color, he has his scroll holster tied to his right leg for ease of access. Sealed inside is an assortment of wires, premade traps, and weapons. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to get his hands on some poison to play and coat his weapons with.

The journey to the Academy is frequently delayed due to well-wishers, Sasori's small family is well known to shinobi and civilians alike. Chiyo and Ebizō are influential politically with the skill to back it up.

None of the people pay much attention to Sasori, he's fine with that. To them, he's just another child who comes from a shinobi family who reached the age of Academy admittance, nothing special. He doesn't want their recognition, all he wants is his precious people safe and happy.

At the entrance where other parents are saying goodbye to their children, they stop.

"Be good, Sasori." Chiyo gives a brief but firm hug.

Ebizō ruffles his already messy hair,

"Don't rush through everything too quickly."

His great-uncle knows him so well, with the way Ebizō didn't make him promise to take his time, the elder already knows he's going to graduate as early as possible. Ebizō is not telling Chiyo, which basically tells Sasori that his great-uncle doesn't approve but won't stop him.

"Of course, Jii-sama." A hollow assurance and they both know it.

With that, he departs, ignoring the other children with parents he no longer has. Sasori blends in with the crowd quite easily and he settles down somewhere near the front. Close enough to pay attention but far enough to be overlooked. The chattering children are quickly shushed by the appearance of the Nidaime Kazekage.

"Soldiers of Suna, we stand here today at the beginning of another term. Here, you will train, learn, and be pushed harder than you have ever been before. Obedience will be _given_ to your superiors, not just when you feel like it," The Kazekage intones solemnly, some people from the crowd laugh, the man doesn't pause long before continuing, "As you all know, Suna is locked in a war with Konoha and Kusa. Now, more than ever, Suna must rise up to face the challenge. I believe we are more than capable of showing the other nations our greatness. The future now rests with you."

The gathered people cheered loudly, Sasori raises his fist with the rest but keeps his mouth shut.

_There is no glory in war. Only death and suffering. No one comes out unbroken._

For his loved ones, he will fight. He'll break and pick up the pieces to put himself back together, over and over again if he has to. The rest of the world can go to hell.

When the cheering died down, the Nidaime speaks up again,

"I wish you success in your endeavors."

Then he disappears in a shunshin, a show put on to impress the civilians and children. Instructors flicker to the front of the crowd and parents slowly file their way out. A man steps up to the place the Nidaime vacated.

"We will now begin. Make your way into the courtyard where we will divide you into classes."

Without protest, the crowd follows the instructions given. Sasori allows people to move ahead of him as he holds back, waiting to go in with the last few people.

"I wonder what test they have this year." He overhears a girl say to her friend, she holds herself well, probably not her first year. Her footsteps are silent and her eyes are wary. Sasori stays close to listen in on the response. Information gathering is important, never venture into new territory uniformed.

"Yeah, I hope it's not hard. I heard that three years ago they put a genjutsu over the entire building."

"Ugh," The girl groans, "They don't teach us about genjutsu until our second year, can you believe it?"

The two then converse more on inane topics that Sasori doesn't bother to stay for. He mulls the new knowledge over in his head.

_Genjutsu, huh? Hey, if I get pegged with a genjutsu, break me out of it, okay?_

His chakra bounces twice, affirmative.

_Thanks._

Two times again, affirmative.

_Maybe we need to figure out a better code than twice for 'yes' and once for 'no'._

Two emphatic bounces.

_Right, okay. Just remember the genjutsu. If you sense anything weird, tell me._

Two more bounces.

Satisfied, Sasori resumes his planning. He doubts that the instructors will have them fight immediately. Not when there are civilians who aren't capable of even throwing a proper punch. Traps are likely. Nothing lethal because killing the cannon fodder is unbeneficial. Sasori can say that he is decently proficient at spotting and getting out of traps, courtesy of one Harue-sensei. He might not like it but he'll have to thank the crazy woman later.

Maybe there will be mild poisons, Suna is famous for its poisons. It will be useful to start building immunity early. Again, nothing lethal because cannon fodder needs to be alive when they're thrown at the enemy. While Sasori only has theoretical knowledge on poisons, he's fairly confident his chakra will do it's best to fix him.

So there isn't anything worth worrying over, he just needs to keep an eye out and make sure he doesn't make a fool of himself. Sasori moves up near the front of the group again in time to see the first kid get dragged up into the air by their ankles screaming.

_Ah, traps it is. I wonder what else they have planned._

Sasori ignores the screaming child and focuses his attention on the sand-covered ground of the courtyard. There are faint impressions in the sand, indicating more traps and...Sasori smiles.

Exploding seals. Very minor ones, sure, but enough to sting quite a bit.

He glances around at the walls and entrances.

His chakra pulses out without his guidance, one of the doors fade from view.

_Interesting. Genjutsu as well? Thanks for the heads up._

Sasori notes more traps laid out at the entrances, trip wires crisscrossing haphazardly. By this point, more people have been caught in traps and are trying to unsuccessfully get themselves out.

"Oh, come on! We just covered these last semester!" The girl from before complains.

And now Sasori is done, he's sure he has a good idea of where everything is. Time to pick out his route.

Deciding to simply walk in a straight line, Sasori takes one step forward. Then another. And another. He pulls his scroll out of its holster and unseals a kunai, slicing a wire with it. It lets loose a volley of plastic shuriken and he twists to dodge them. Path cleared. He continues moving forward, by this point the crowd is silent. A trap activates without him touching it and his eyes narrow as he dodges the projectiles, Sasori turns to look at one of the instructors.

_Bastard._

Sasori gingerly steps around a hidden exploding tag, jumping again when more and more traps activate without his input. Annoying, sure, but not impossible.

His chakra twists in warning, Sasori flattens himself to the ground, one hand reaching out to deactivate an exploding tag. He's not good at deactivating them without ink and a brush, but he must have done it right because he isn't launched straight into the path of a small fireball.

"You would throw ninjutsu at a fresh candidate? Don't think I didn't notice you activating all those traps unnecessarily." He snarls as the fire singed his hair.

"Rule number one, don't question your superiors." The head instructor smirks.

Three more fireballs are flung toward him even faster than the first, Sasori's eyes widen and he darts to the left, bending over backward, palms touching the ground. More traps activate, pushing him towards the door that was actually a wall under a genjutsu.

"Really? Don't you have other people to test? Save some traps for them!" He wheezes between dodging increasingly ridiculous traps.

Finally having it, he unseals one of his premade barriers, sending a flicker of chakra to activate it. The barrier stops all of the incoming attacks and he dances around the wires on the courtyard floor, moving determinedly _away _from the dead end.

"He has a freaking _barrier seal?_" One from the peanut gallery exclaims.

The head instructor chuckles,

"I am surprised, but it is as expected with Chiyo-sama's grandson."

"Hey, I have a great-uncle as well! His name is Ebizō!" Sasori yells back at them.

Another shinobi chimes in,

"He's Chiyo-sama's grandson?"

"And Jii-sama's great-nephew!" He insists, cursing as the barrier faded, "I shouldn't have used origami paper for this. Harue-sensei did warn me that the type of paper was important!"

Some faces paled,

"Harue taught you?"

Sasori winces as one of the blunted kunai finds its mark,

"Crazy woman didn't teach me, it was more like she thought it'd great fun to make her new 'minion' run random errands for her! Isago was the only bright part of her torture sessions."

"Oh, figures that a prodigy sensei and student duo pick up another prodigy." The head instructor muses, "I doubt we have anything here that will beat Harue."

Sasori finally makes it to an entrance, stepping over the tripwire in front of it. He pokes his head back out at the door,

"Yeah, nothing beats the time she set up an invisible barrier obstacle course keyed specifically to me all over Suna without telling me about it. Then she made me run ridiculous tea errands for her _all _day."

"What are you waiting for? Someone has already made it to the Academy, get to work." An instructor orders the other children. They stand to attention before carefully picking their way to the doors.

"You know, Kubo-san, we shouldn't have focused so much on Shinkuri-kun."

Kubo, the head instructor, sighs,

"Practical as ever, Matsui. I must say, Chiyo-sama does not disappoint, she did comment on her grandson's genius."

Matsui snorts,

"Genius? Definitely. We would have to place him in a higher class."

"No, let him join the first years, we will see how he progresses." Kubo insists, "Just because he can pass the test doesn't mean he doesn't need to work on the basics."

"Of course, Kubo-san."

Sasori sits down, ignoring the gossiping instructors as they exaggerate tales of Harue-sensei's insanity, at least, he thinks they're exaggerating. He watches the other students traverse the trapped courtyard, some of them throwing glances at him occasionally. Some are jealous, others admiring, most of the children of shinobi are wary instead of biased.

"Don't take the door on the far left, it's a genjutsu and the door is a wall."

A kunai is flung at him for his efforts,

"Don't make it easier for them, Shinkuri-kun."

"Okay," he says.

When all those that are capable reach an entrance, the instructors flicker in to release those who are still trapped.

"All first years, split yourself into groups of ten and choose a classroom in hall A, second years, the same in hall B. You get the drill. You all have ten minutes." Kubo barks out his orders, ignoring the grumbling of the first years complaining about not knowing where hall A is.

Sasori slots himself in with a group of mostly civilian children. They wear brightly colored and pastel clothes, no equipment present, and Sasori thought _he_ was being minimalist.

"Umm...does anyone know where hall A is?" A petite girl with blond hair speaks up.

Today is going to be a long day.

* * *

**Hi guys! I am officially back from camp! Which means more time to write, yay!**

**I gave Sasori a last name because well...Akasuna is cool and all, but it isn't his name. It's a title.**

**深紅リ(Shinkuri) Using crimson and parts of the kanji for lily. It means Crimson red. It really isn't original.**

**Anyway, I have a discord! I haven't really been talking much about it, but I feel like I should. It's for all of my fics. You can ask me questions, talk about random things, and *cough* spoilers *cough*. (Only if you want them. Some things, however, will not be spoiled by yours truly.) It is a much faster way to reach me.**

**Link: H t T Ps**** / / discord . gg / ****Aux5Q8B**

**Cheers!**

**Mizu**


	13. Artist's Confliction

Sasori keeps an ear on the conversation while he looks around, an upperclassman passes by him,

"Hey, where is hall A?"

The other boy gives him a superior look,

"And why should I care?"

Sasori holds up an exploding tag,

"I'll give you one of these and I will know if you lie."

"Pfft, so?" The boy smirks, but the way he eyes the exploding tag with barely concealed greed means that he wants it.

"Well, if you lie or don't choose to tell me...I'll use this tag on you," Sasori holds up another tag, the experimental one that turned a patch of desert pink, "Don't worry, it's an area effect, so it'll certainly hit you. I'm also not entirely sure what the symptoms would be for a human, I've never tested it on a living being long enough to have conclusive results because...well, they didn't live for very long. Unfortunately, I don't know how to disable this either."

Sasori doesn't mention that he hasn't tested it on living things at all or that it probably won't kill anyone. However, he isn't lying about not knowing how to disable it, though. There is still a patch of pink in training ground five.

The boy gulps,

"A-aren't you afraid of hitting other people with that thing?"

Sasori hadn't thought about that, why are children smart again? Oh right, their brains haven't figured out what boxes are yet.

He shrugs,

"I was just bluffing, I needed time to have it lock into your chakra signature. But it will definitely hit you and only you now."

What can he say? Sasori knows he's good at lying. Not an honorable skill, sure, but nothing about being a shinobi is honorable.

"A-alright, hall A is that way, take two right turns and then a left one. You can't miss it, they have it labeled." The boy points. Was that half baked lie seriously enough to convince him? Clearly, despite not having the knowledge of boxes, children still have limited intelligence.

"Thanks!" Sasori tosses the exploding tag at the other boy who catches it on instinct but drops the tag immediately like a hot potato, "Don't worry, it's legit with a six-feet blast radius. Ask one of the instructors if you need to confirm."

"We're not allowed to have explosives." The other boy says before picking the tag back up anyway.

Sasori smirks,

"Then you better hide that, hmm?"

He turns back to his group who stare at him,

"I found out where hall A is? Let's go so we can pick the best classroom."

"A-alright." The blond agrees, eyeing him warily. Civilian, right, they definitely won't approve of his blatant bribing of other students with contraband items. Well, it's not his fault he's a walking arsenal of prohibited products.

A purple-haired boy shoves his face into Sasori's personal space,

"Hey, I'm Katsuo Dokuhana. How are you cheating?"

"Katsuo!" Another purple-haired boy admonishes before turning to Sasori, "I'm sorry about my brother."

"What? He has to be cheating, Katsuro!" Katsuo points to Sasori.

Interesting, twins with such similar names? Their parents clearly had ideas. Or were sadistic, or maybe both. They're also from the Dokuhana clan, the one that's known for the unusually high amount of poison specialists they produce. And twins. The clan always seems to have twins. Or triplets. Or any amount of children other than one. Sometimes, twins are born with one body but two minds. Sasori finds the Dokuhana clan fascinating, especially how two consciousnesses are capable of coexisting in one body.

Unfortunately, these "twins" are rare and often die young as the two minds do not get along and almost always end up killing each other. Sasori isn't sure how that works, but some of these "twins" have committed suicide unwillingly as one of the two minds decided to end their life while the other tried to resist. Or they "consume" the other mind, but the mental battle that occurs before this usually causes the surviving mind to fall into a permanent coma.

None of these "twins" have survived past the age of ten.

"A shinobi always cheats, Katsuo-san. I was trained by some people and I'm smart, that's it." Sasori puts a hand on Katsuo's face and relocates them out of his personal space. He had considered calling the boy Dokuhana, but there are two of them...so...no.

"He has you beat there, Katsuo, you're not smart at all." Katsuro laments.

Katsuo crosses his arms defensively,

"Yeah, that's what I have you for!"

"Katsuo, I can't always stay with you." Katsuro states with aggravation.

"We're gonna be on the same team. And then we'll show people how awesome we are!" Katsuo points at Sasori, "We're even going to beat you! Just you wait!"

Sasori is about to reply when a hand hesitantly pokes him on the shoulder, he turns around and freezes.

Komushi, he thought he'd escaped from that unfortunate can of worms by avoiding the boy.

"H-hi! Can I join you guys?"

Before Sasori can refuse, Katsuo waves a hand, beckoning Komushi to come closer,

"Yeah! We only got nine of us so far, you'll make it an even ten."

Sasori's eyebrow twitches, why does the exuberant one have to be such a social butterfly? Katsuo's just making it harder for Sasori to run away from things that are dangerous to his carefully laid plans.

Komushi doesn't notice anything wrong and beams,

"I'm Komushi!" He turns to Sasori, "I know I met you at the park that one time, but what's your name?"

Sasori stares at him for a long awkward second,

"None of your business."

Komushi's happy demeanor crumples and Sasori refuses to feel guilty, it's not his fault, it's the other boy's. If Komushi didn't die in canon and become the first human puppet, maybe Sasori wouldn't mind being friends with him. But that isn't the case and Sasori already has enough precious people, add any more and it would be hard to manage all of them.

At least, that is what he's trying to convince himself as he resolutely ignores Komushi.

They walk the rest of the way in silence, chose a classroom that looked decent without much fuss, and settled themselves in rows of worn desks. He takes a window seat, Katsuo and Katsuro sitting down next to him. While he tries not to be, he is happy that someone likes him enough to sit next to him, even though they are the twins.

Wait, that sounds rude, he's very happy that the twins like him and vice versa. Anyone that isn't Komushi is great. Sasori wasn't raised as a rude heathen in either of his lives, it is important to remain polite even in his head. With, of course, exceptions. Sasori would consider his first day off to a decent start despite the setbacks, but then Komushi sits in the seat right behind him and dares to pat his head.

"Wow, it's so soft!"

Sasori's eyebrow twitches again, for different reasons than the first.

"The moment we're allowed to use poisons I'm going to put a contact transmission paralytic in my hair so people who touch it without permission will suffer."

Katsuro laughs,

"But people with permission will still suffer, Shinkuri-san."

"That's the point," Sasori says as he says while trying to stab Komushi's hand with a kunai. He isn't trying very hard because he doesn't want to cause a scene, but Komushi is going to get it if he touches his Sasori's hair again, "And call me Sasori, Katsuro-san."

Katsuro beams,

"Only if you call me Katsuro."

"Alright, whatever." Sasori sighs.

"Sheesh, you haven't changed a bit. I swear you've gotten even more hostile." Komushi very carefully avoids touching Sasori, "So your name is Sasori, huh? Nice to meet you!"

"You," Sasori points the kunai at Komushi, "—will call me Shinkuri-san. I don't care if you argue. Call me Sasori and I'll stab you."

"Hey, what about me?!" Katsuo waves his hand, "Do I get to call you Sasori?"

Sasori buries his head in his arms, wishing that he'd simply stayed home today,

"Sure, why not."

The sound of someone standing up and walking can be heard behind him. A hand slams down next to his head and he looks up blearily. Komushi's angry face can be seen as they frantically blink away tears,

"Why do you hate me so much, huh? What'd I ever do to you?"

Sasori considers the question, inwardly panicking because he hadn't meant to make anyone cry. Komushi...was a good person in canon, one of the rare few. He doesn't deserve the prejudice Sasori insists on clinging to.

But Sasori is a creature of habit, he doesn't like upsetting the delicate balancing act his life has become lately,

"No reason, I just don't like you. I do not hate you if that is what you are asking. It would be best if we remained formal acquaintances."

Hopefully, that would placate the other boy. Sasori is sure if he emphasizes wishing to remain neutral acquaintances everything will turn out for the better. He's compromising, he won't avoid Komushi as long as he doesn't have to befriend them.

"Stop pushing me away!" Demanding indignantly with all the righteousness a child not even in their double digits can muster, Komushi scrubs at his eyes.

Sasori turns away from him, head resting on the table again,

"Why? I have no desire to be your friend."

"Because it's mean!" Komushi exclaims.

_Why won't you just understand? I won't let you replace Isago._

"Maa, maa, everyone calm down" Katsuro gestures with his hands, an awkward smile plastered on his face. Sasori gives him a faint smile, guess he found out who the mediator of the class would be. Katsuro doesn't seem to be the argumentative type, but more like a buffer between people. A good type of person to keep around because Sasori recognizes his social deficits. Interacting with his fellow humans is not a skill he possesses, even as a college student. There was a good reason why he had an apartment instead of living in the dorms like everyone else.

"I don't care if it's mean, I simply don't like you. Get over it." Maybe it's harsh and unreasonable, Komushi might deserve a chance.

But Sasori isn't a nice person.

He's made his peace with it.

_I will have to be cruel to survive, being soft will not help me find Isago._

"Someday, I _will_ figure out why you hate me so much," Declares Komushi, face set in a determined frown and eyes dry, "And why you look so frightened."

_Damn, he's perceptive. I'm not...afraid of Komushi._

_I'm afraid of myself._

_The monster that I will become._

Alright, maybe he hasn't made his peace with not being a nice person, a lifetime spent with different morals and standards is hard to shed. However, there is a difference between being a jerk and a monstrosity.

Sasori isn't sure which one he is, or maybe if he's both.

He doesn't want to become a monster.

* * *

**Fun Fact: (More like blurb or info dump...)  
Dokuhana: 毒花: Poison Flower. A clan native to Suna that specializes in poisons and infiltration with twins, triplets, etc. that tend to crop up in alarmingly large numbers every few decades. No one knows why. A characteristic of the main branch is purple hair. Eye colors can vary but are mostly warm colors like brown. They don't quite have a kekkai genkai, but are born with an impressive immune system that lends itself well to building poison immunities. They rarely get sick and are rumored. to have the largest collection of knowledge on poisons in all the Elemental Nations. The Dokuhana Clan are well respected in Suna.**

**They also occasionally have symbiotic twins. These twins share one body and always end up killing each other purposefully or accidentally. They are usually considered a single entity despite having two minds and are quite powerful. (Double the chakra, mental power, etc. in one body because it's basically two people) There is one such "duo" alive in the Dokuhana clan currently, but due to the stigma surrounding these "twins", only clan members know. They are three years old.**

**Anyway, here's another chapter with the reintroduction of Komushi! **

**Answering Guest Reviews (I haven't been doing that recently and I feel awful):**

_**SasorixSasori as a ship? I find it amusing (Because come on, he's definitely narcissistic. But to the point of falling in love with himself? i'm not quite sure.)**_

_**To the number of you who have posted pairing requests, I have decided not to have an official pairing, you all can ship what you want and analyze every interaction he has with people. (Fufufu, doesn't mean I won't be dropping heavy-handed, almost blatant hints in my writing.)**_

_**To be a puppet, or to not be a puppet, that is the question. He will...certainly deviate on this plot point. Sort of. Not really. But also really. Spoiler material right here, so I won't say much except cackle evilly.**_

_**He will definitely be using puppets. As for elemental jutsu, sure why not? I'm not telling you his affinity though, that happens later in some war or other.**_

_**Naming his chakra...I have ideas. Which may or may not be a good thing. Sasori doesn't have a great naming sense, but he does have a penchant to choose dramatic names that reference something or other. The more incomprehensible the better.**_

_**As for more details on how his chakra works, it is sentient. Not an alter ego or anything like that. More like an unusually intelligent pet that happens to share his body as his life force. So not really human-level intelligence. (But they're still young, so that will change in the future) It can be expended, but even outside of his body, it is still sentient and prefers to return back into his core after it finishes whatever goal it left to accomplish. Sasori's chakra control is still awful, so if he tries to make chakra strings manually, it won't work. But it's fine if he asks his chakra to do it for him because his chakra is literally chakra and if they can't control themselves...well, that would be disappointing, to say the least. If he uses a lot of chakra, meaning most of it gets sent outside of his body, it does help expand his chakra production as his body is fooled into thinking it needs to produce more. His chakra's main goal is to protect him the best it can and stay with what it considers "home". Any sort of action that interferes with these goals will entail a violent reaction of varying degrees, depending on the infraction. Like with Tamura, the man threatened Sasori so the chakra reacted. However, the chakra will not return back to his body if it is sealed away in something else, or if its core nature is changed irrevocably. **_

_**Yes, he got bit by a spider and didn't really care. Six wasn't all that poisonous, it was a common house spider. **_

_**Thank you to all those who complimented me on my writing skill, it makes my day that other people believe I actually have good writing. I will do my best not to let you all down.**_

**If you've read through all that, I'll put my discord link here just in case you want to talk to me about anything:**

**discord . gg / Aux5Q8B**

**Ever wishing you the best,**

**Mizu :)**


	14. Artist's Misinterpretation

The rest of his class settles down when a man walks into the room, clad in the same tan uniform that is the standard of Suna's shinobi. Sasori wonders why everything here has to be the same color of dirt, the people, buildings, and dirty children playing in the dusty road outside of the orphanage.

Where he would be if it weren't for Chiyo and Ebizō hanging on to life despite it being a miracle for them to survive past the age of twenty as shinobi.

No wonder Suna feels hopeless, there is no color, no joy.

What the people do have is a war and a Kage who...well, a Kage who is steadily losing what little bit of sanity the man had left. From Sasori's knowledge, he knows that in the future, unless his existence has changed something in the plot dramatically, Kiri will have the bloodline purges. Suna doesn't have the bloodline purges right now, nor does it look like the Kage will start murdering people with kekkei genkai…

It's complicated.

Rumors of a rebellion have been floating around and since shinobi are _paranoid,_ the Kazekage spares no mercy to those he believes to be his enemy. Even if the people he has executed may not actually be traitors to the village.

Anyway, besides the point."All right you brats. Don't expect me to give you a warm welcome to your first year here," The instructor barks, "As Kazekage-sama said, you are here to learn. You may call me Asano-sensei and I will be teaching you for the rest of the year."

Sasori doesn't like his new sensei. The man looks like a stick wearing a potato sack with an oddly disproportionate face that gives the impression that everyone else is an utter fool. Sasori does not like being thought of as a fool.

"We will start by introducing ourselves. All of you figure out the order you want to go in. First person get over here." Asano-sensei orders as he gestures to the space in front of the classroom.

Nobody moves.

Asano-sensei's eyebrow twitches,

"If one of you doesn't get up here in the next five seconds, it's five laps around Suna for the entire class."

Still, nobody moves.

"Five, four—"

Sasori sighs and stands up, his chair screeching loudly in the dead silence of the classroom. He shuffles out of the crowded row while Katsuo and Katsuro pull themselves closer to the desk to give him more space.

Upon reaching the front of the class, he eyes all of his classmates with dubiously, face inexpressive,

"I am Sasori Shinkuri. I like puppets, fuinjutsu, explosives, succulents, brushes, blue paint, the color blue, my great-uncle, my grandma, Isago, origami, poisons, dead people…"

He stops to take a breath,

"I don't like how Harue-sensei likes to torture me, Tamura, idiots, ink splatters, _idiots_, people who talk too much, things that are bad for my sanity, dead people, when my grandma takes away my explosives—"

Asano-sensei interrupts him,

"That will be enough."

Sasori shuts his mouth with a click. He walks back to his seat, Katsuo and Katsuro pulling their seats forward to let him in again.

"You said idiots. _Twice._ Sasori." Katsuo stage whispers loudly.

Katsuro shoves his brother lightly before leaning forward as well,

"And you said dead people for your likes _and_ dislikes. Not to mention your likes are mildly concerning. Like, _concerning._"

Sasori shushes them, turning back to the front as another kid decides to introduce themselves,

"I'm weird, deal with it."

The twins give him matching looks of exasperation,

"Yeah, we figured."

The rest of the introductions aren't really that interesting. Most of the class is composed of civilians with the exception of Katsuo, Katsuro, and him.

Katsuo's introduction is typical of the brashness he exuded from the first moment Sasori met him,

"I'm Katsuo Dokuhana! I like poisons, my clan, poisons, poisonous flowers, poisons, poisonous plants in general, poisons, poisonous animals, poisons, making poisons, poisons, reading about poisons—"

"We get it, Katsuo." Katsuro cuts off his brother.

Katsuo glares at his twin but continues defiantly,

"—drinking poisons, and Sasori. Because he's a friend now."

Katsuro petulantly frowns, before yelling at his brother from his seat

"You'll mention Sasori, but not your own twin? Cold."

"You interrupted me, so yeah," Katsuo sticks out his tongue childishly, "I dislike getting sick, boring things, not knowing things, and my brother at the moment."

Asano-sensei doesn't bat an eyelash as Katsuo skips off back to his seat while Katsuro stomps indignantly to the front of the class.

"I'm Katsuro Dokuhana, I hate my brother when he's mean, I hate seafood, I hate cold water when I'm trying to shower, I hate getting poisoned," He takes a breath, "I like poisons, food, reading about everything, learning things, and my family."

Komushi goes after the Dokuhana twins,

"I'm Komushi...I don't know my last name. I like the orphanage and everyone there, I want to become the best shinobi I can be to protect all my precious people. I dislike liars. I want Sasori to explain why he hates me."

Sasori blinks, he doesn't understand why Komushi is so fixated on him, he has done everything to make himself as dislikable as possible to the other boy. A girl steps up to the front this time, but Sasori pays no attention to her other than her name as he ponders the implications of Komushi being so keen on being his friend.

Wait.

Canon Komushi had parents. This Komushi does not.

Did...he change something?

Despite knowing that he most likely didn't cause Komushi's orphan status, Sasori can't help the guilt from wrapping around his heart and squeezing painfully.

_Perhaps I should have been kinder...I suppose...I will be kinder to him._

"I'm Kaori Sunahama." The blond-haired girl utters shyly to the rest of the class, she doesn't say much after that, listing a few of her likes and dislikes. The next girl that steps up to the front is her complete opposite, loud with a hint of underlying darkness lurking in the way she holds herself.

"Hello, suckers! It's your future Kage here, Suzume Bachi!"

"Yeah, well no girl has been a kage in any of the villages, idiot." Someone yells from behind Sasori, he faintly recalls a boy named Ichirou who had introduced himself earlier. However, he's not sure if that is the correct name for the one who yelled.

"Shut up! I _will_ be the first female kage ever!" Suzume spits her words out angrily.

The boy snorts,

"Keep dreaming, civie."

Asano-sensei steps in before anything can escalate into a fight,

"That should be all ten of you, now we will begin your first lesson."

The door to the classroom slides open, a man carrying a box steps inside,

"Here are the doses for the first years, Asano-san."

Asano-sensei takes the box from the man and sets it down on his desk, he turns around to level the class with a glare.

"All of you should know your time here will not be fun and games," He takes out a vial from the box, "Every one of you will start building immunities to Suna's most common poisons."

At the word "poison", Katsuo perked up and let out a small cheer. Sasori also pays more attention to his sensei, poisons had been difficult for him to obtain and now he was being handed one. He squints to see the liquid in the vial better, it's colorless and clear. Asano-sensei passes out the vials to each of the children. When one reaches Sasori, he turns it in his hands curiously.

There aren't many clear poisons, this can be useful for infiltration if it is odorless as well. Even better if it is tasteless. He carefully uncorks the bottle and he doesn't even have to waft the scent before it hits him like a sickly sweet wave of death and decay. Sasori quickly corks the vial again, gagging and making a displeased face.

He feels lightheaded but he's not sure if that is a result of the unfortunate smell or an actual effect of the poison.

"As Shinkuri has demonstrated, Suna's Higanbana is quite potent. It is derived from a breed of spider lilies only found in Suna," Asano-sensei remarks blandly, "It has a unique scent that some describe as decaying corpses steeped in honey. When and why anyone doused a dead body in honey and then smelled it weeks later is not my problem."

Some students laugh nervously.

Sasori's teacher waits for the class to quiet down before continuing,

"Higanbana can be used both as a gas and a liquid. It causes external and internal bleeding as each organ in your body slowly shuts down. The purer the distillation the faster it acts as well as the more expensive it is to get. The ones you all received are the lowest concentration we reserve for Academy students."

The man smiles eerily,

"I'm sure you know what I want for you to do next."

Sasori groans, poison tolerances are built from exposure. He'd have to drink the damned thing, hopefully, it doesn't taste as awful as it smells. He uncorks the vial again and brings it to his lips, holding his breath.

_Cheers._

And then he dumps the entire concoction in his mouth and immediately starts gagging. It tastes exactly how it smells but multiplied by ten.

He blinks the tears from his eyes and tries to focus on his desk but it swims as if his eyes are still full of tears.

"Sasori! You weren't supposed to swallow it, beginners are only exposed to the gas for a couple of minutes!" Katsuo frantically hovers around his friend, not sure what to do, "That entire vial can be lethal!"

Sasori flops onto his desk, not caring about the pain that's slowly radiating from his stomach, this is what he gets for jumping to conclusions.

"D-damn it, y-y-you mean I d-didn't h-have to g-go through w-with a-all _that?_"

He tries to focus, to no avail because his brain isn't cooperating. Breaths come sharper and faster as his entire body feels like it's being stabbed by hundreds of needles.

Then it starts.

His chakra lashes out from his core, quickly running through the pathways and seeping into the flesh around them. Asano-sensei shoves another vial into Sasori's mouth, emptying the contents rapidly and trying to force him to swallow. It tastes significantly better than the first vial Sasori stupidly drunk. What has the world come to now? From goldfish memory to being Alice in Wonderland?

"Don't you dare die on me Shinkuri, Chiyo-sama will have my hide and I will always be known as the one teacher that had a student dead on his first day."

His sensei seems displeased, mouth set in a frown. But strangely enough, there is a gleam of humor hidden in the man's dark eyes.

Sasori doesn't say anything. He's not really sure if he can speak at all. Somewhere in his brain he's banging his head against the wall and cursing his own stupidity. Honestly, why would he be so reckless?

Having no other choice, he sends a silent request.

_Fix me?_

Two affirmative bounces. His chakra latches on to the antidote he'd been fed and the poison.

Curiosity.

_Yeah, I'm glad you can find something positive about me slowly dying here._

One bounce this time.

_It's not good? I'm going to die?_

Another bounce.

_I'm not going to die?_

Two bounces.

_So the dose wasn't lethal._

Two bounces again.

_Rest in pieces, my poor dignity and any self-respect I have for myself. And for Asano-sensei being sadistic and exaggerating._

A questioning wobble.

_Oh, shush. How long before I get better? Without your interference, that is. A bounce for each minute?_

Sasori's chakra goes haywire, he loses count after twenty-five bounces and it doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon.

_Even with the antidote?! On second thought, just fix me._

Two happy bounces and his chakra gets back to work, slowly making its way through his body. The nausea and pain he feels ebbs as he blinks blearily up at Asano-sensei.

"Sorry about that, I wasn't thinking."

The man's gaze sharpens,

"There's always one every year. Why else do you think I had the antidote on hand? To be fair, I did not expect it to be you."

Sasori gives a weak grimace,

"Well...I can be overzealous at times?"

Asano-sensei snorts, suspicion still lurking in his posture,

"Typical of Harue's minion. She'd down her vial and every other person's in the entire row."

Sasori doesn't know what to say about that, Harue-sensei has always been a strange one. Her lack of self-preservation, or just preservation in general, is sorely…..lacking.

"Nonetheless, the antidote I gave you should not have worked so quickly."

He stares back, guileless, at his instructor,

"I never managed to try any actual poisons, Grandma wouldn't let me. So I only have theoretical knowledge."

In other words:

_Don't look at me, I have no idea. But also not outright stating it because that would be lying._

It's not a good excuse, but Sasori wasn't about to miss the first class just because he went and drank something he wasn't supposed to. However, the best lies are the ones that don't really lie, let the other person form their own conclusions from the given information. It makes the lie more believable if people believe they know the truth. Simply telling someone information doesn't make you trustworthy.

Plausible deniability and all that.

Asano sensei does not seem to be convinced, but after a few more moments, he lets Sasori's deception slide,

"Perhaps you are more related to your little friends than you thought. Though the Dokuhana tend to keep to themselves. Usually, people marry _in_, not _out._"

Sasori simply continues smiling as if nothing is wrong. After running basic diagnostics on him and determining that he's fine, Asano-sensei let him sit back down.

"Now, class. Do _not_ do what Shinkuri was stupid enough to do. Not everyone has an undiscovered tolerance to poisons," Their instructor glares, "There is a reason why Higanbana is the most potent poison Suna has. It's versatile without losing any of its lethality. Most are unable to develop full immunity to it and the antidote is difficult to make without the proper ingredients."

Katsuro leans over to whisper in Sasori's ear,

"And the ingredients he speaks of are only found in Suna. It's not named Higanbana simply because it's made from the flowers, but because the flowers symbolize the afterlife and death. Fitting, huh?"

"Guess I got lucky?" Sasori whispers back.

"Yeah. I'm surprised you didn't need a trip to the hospital, impressive for someone who's not part of the main branch." Katsuo retorts quietly, eyes at the front of the room.

"This is so exciting! We have to introduce you to Okaa-sama!" Katsuro gushes, "She's the matriarch of the clan and will definitely know something!"

Sasori turns to face Katsuro,

"Your mother is the clan head of the Dokuhana?!"

"Quiet, you three!" Asano-sensei orders sharply, "I don't care if you already know the lesson. Though Shinkuri is obviously lacking in knowledge on poisons given his previous stunt."

Sasori sheepishly returns his focus back to the lesson on Higanbana and the proper dosage for first years.

"Yeah, it's strange to outsiders that we have a woman for a head, but we don't care about the gender as long as the clan head prove themselves competent," Katsuo whispers after a couple more minutes.

"Do I need to move you to a different seat, Katsuo?" Asano-sensei's eye develops a tick, "I'm sure Suzume would love to have company."

Katsuo sneaks a furtive glance at the girl who's glaring daggers at him,

"I'll pass, sensei."

"Then keep your mouth shut during lessons unless you have a question, which means you _raise your hand._ Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal, sensei."

_What have I gotten myself into now? Meeting the Dokuhana matriarch? I'm definitely not related to any of them! The fewer people know about my weird chakra the better…_

Speak of the devil and he shall respond, his chakra wobbles comfortingly, oddly cheerful.

* * *

**Another chapter!**

**Before anything else, I don't want to get political or anything. But I can't overlook the loss of lives. My heartfelt condolences and well wishes for those who suffered in Texas and Ohio.**

**On a slightly brighter note, I will be less busy and probably be able to post more often now. There is more worldbuilding and development going on. Chapter fifteen looks to be nearly five thousand words, so that'll get posted sometime soon.**

**Guest Review:**

**Sasori x Pakura**

_**I'm doing some research on Pakura to see if it is a feasible ship (age-wise and all that)**_

**On a completely unrelated note, how many of you ship Isago and Sasori? (because I've been seeing more comments on it lately)**

**Sasori gets a reality check and there will be more Komushi next chapter.**

**If any of you want to join my discord, have a link:**

**H**ypertex**t T**ransfer **P**rotocol **S**ecure : / / **discord. gg /Aux5Q8B (just take the first letters of the acronym)**

**Anyway, stay safe,**

**Mizu**


	15. Artist's Eclipsing

**So I have an announcement.**

**I absolutely hate conflict, and everyone has a lot of different opinions on what the ship should be. It stresses me to want to make people happy, but have everyone disagree. As such, I decided that I should clarify things a bit. I won't write lemons or smut. I refuse. I'm fine with romance, but it is not the focal point of this fic. I personally don't care if romance is het or slash. I'm sorry if I didn't make it clear that even if there is romance, it probably won't end well. Like, at all. Yes, I am the author. Yes, I can give them a happy ending. But with where I am going with this fic, it is highly unlikely. Since I've planned out the ending and all.**  
**I don't want to make anyone upset, and it is completely my fault for not realizing how much pairings matter to people because I personally don't mind as long as a ship is plausible and well written. There will be fluffy moments. There will be many fluffy moments. I can give you tooth-rotting fluff for your favorite ship. But story-wise, I'd like to keep it mostly romance free.**  
**If anyone has any issues, please PM me and I promise to give a better explanation and hopefully we can work something out.**  
**I love all of my stories and appreciate all of the people who believe what I write is worth reading. However, I can't continue to write something that doesn't feel like it belongs to me anymore. If you are angry at me for this, I can not stop you.**  
**This does not mean I will stop writing this story, so nobody has to worry about that. It's just that this topic has been bothering me a bit.**  
**With that aside, I'm willing to make the next chapter completely focused on ships. Think of them as alternate universes to IoM in which Sasori (aged up of course) does end up with whoever you want. If you want that for the next chapter (or maybe multiple chapters), please let me know along with the pairing you want.**  
**Thank you for your time and patience.**

* * *

Class for the rest of the day is boring. After going through poisons very thoroughly so no fool attempts what Sasori did, Asano-sensei begins chakra theory. Which would have been interesting if Sasori didn't already devour every single book on chakra in the Compound. Honestly, the lack of information beyond spiritual and physical energy is irritating. It's pitiful. Where is the drive? The thirst for knowledge? Why is it only Orochimaru who's fascinated with chakra enough to experiment with it?

Apparently, people are only fixated with developing new techniques and flashy jutsu. The scarcity of knowledge on the inherent nature of chakra is like trying to find the first grain of sand that ever existed...in a desert. Granted, that grain of sand might not even be in a desert, beaches and common soil both contain sand. If people understood chakra more…

Well, most people don't really have much of a use for such knowledge. Why would they need to know anything beyond the basics when knowing more doesn't make them any stronger? A writer doesn't need to know every single process of creating the language they use or the composition of their paper. It would be unnecessary.

It still would be nice to know how chakra natures work beyond each of the Elemental Nations tend to have elements of its namesake or that it's genetic. Sasori isn't even sure if it is genetic. Does it have anything to do with personality? Why in the name of all that is holy do you figure out your chakra nature using paper from a _tree? _A very special species of tree, but it's still a _tree._ Well, the Juubi is also a tree...Sasori supposes it makes sense. He suspects if he wanted to get answers to his questions he'd have to ask the Sage himself.

Which would be difficult since the man is dead.

He could attempt to use Edo Tensei, but that requires DNA and if any genetic material of the Sage survived after—Sasori didn't pay enough attention to canon to know how long ago the Sage existed.

After chakra theory came history, who knew that the Kazekage have a terrible tendency to get killed by their successors? While it is true that there have only been two, the Nidaime still led a coup that ended with the Shodiame's death. What did the Shodaime even do? Asano-sensei doesn't give much of an explanation other than how the current Kazekage murdered the first. Oh, and guess what? Suna isn't the only place that it happens. Iwa's Shodaime Tsuchikage, Ishikawa, got owned by the current Tsuchikage in a _friendly spar_ that ended up fatal.

Friendly spar indeed.

Sasori isn't even going to start on the mess that went down between Hashirama and Madara.

At this point, Kiri seems to be the only sane place with normal transitions between Kages. However, that will all change around the time Yagura gets the hat so Kiri is also not a great place to be. Kumo might be the only sane village. Period. But then they also have to kidnap Hinata to...gain the Byakugan; Sasori highly suspects gaining the Byakugan didn't necessarily mean they rip her eyes out and kill her but more along the lines of rip her eyes out and…

_Yeah, how about no._

Maybe he should have been born in Uzushio. The Uzumaki seem to be a delightful bunch of people and he has red hair to match. But no, that would have been too easy and Uzu is due to get annihilated...sometime. Maybe it has already happened, Uzu wasn't elaborated on in the anime. Which Sasori is now growing resentful of, where is the information when he needed it? Oh, yeah, Kiri is also the one that spearheads destroying Uzushio, so Kiri clearly isn't all sunshine and rainbows.

Enough about random history facts.

Someone up there hates Sasori because the class that came after that was math. Math.

Sasori hates math.

Absolutely. Despises. Math.

There is a reason why he was working on an _art_ major.

After being tortured—Sasori refuses to acknowledge math as anything but torture—the entire class is shooed into the courtyard to run laps because Asano-sensei decided that all of them needed to "wake up". Apparently, to prevent trampling each other, all of the classes run laps in the courtyard at different times. Which is convenient, because running laps with three hundred other people in the desert is an awful idea. Sasori shuffles outside with his class, eyes squinting at the brightness as a wave of heat washed over him. He can feel his motivation draining as the desire to roll himself back inside grows.

With a sigh, he begins stretching. Running isn't his favorite activity, though he'd gotten relatively good at it during his self-imposed training. However, he ran to increase endurance and stamina, not speed. His speed is a sensitive subject, at age six, his legs are too short to carry him places quickly unless he uses chakra and shunshins.

Which is cheating, but a shinobi should always cheat. It's a novel idea, but Sasori tells himself there is a difference between cheating and cutting corners. Cutting corners will just come back to bite him in the long run.

Katsuo and Katsuro both plop down on the ground beside him to stretch as well, though theirs are a little different from the ones he was taught.

"How many laps do you think sensei will make us run?" Katsuro worries softly, voice a petulant mutter.

"I don't know, Okaa-sama always makes us run twenty around the Clan compound." Katsuo answers, "But even she isn't sadistic enough to make us run when it's so hot out."

"Which is why I like to run in the morning, not when it's almost noon. I'm probably going to age four months in this heat." Sasori complains.

Katsuo gives him a curious glance,

"You also run laps?"

"Yeah, I drag myself up at a god awful hour in the morning to run laps around the village. Grandma won't let me use weights, so I just add more distance every week. But that's endurance, not strength." Sasori explains, brushing the grains of sand off his clothing absently as he stands up. After living in Suna for a while, he'd grown accustomed to the sand that was omnipresent in his life.

"You run laps...around the village." Katsuro stares up at him from the ground, shocked.

"Yeah, I tried doing ten laps the first time I tried it," Sasori grimaces at the memory, remembering the shortness of breath and pain that accompanied collapsing in the middle of a street, "Big mistake, I had to stop after the first half lap. I'm up to three and a quarter now."

Idly musing, Sasori wonders why everything seems to always go wrong in the middle of some random street.

"You're insane, you know that?" Katsuo scrutinizes him carefully, "I can see why you're so good at everything now. But it comes with a price, doesn't it?"

Sasori winces, Katsuo is right, he'd be in a pretty bad place from how hard he'd been pushing himself. That is, he would be if it weren't for his unusual chakra patching him up and fixing any complications that occur. Even so, Sasori makes sure to manage his health meticulously, it really wouldn't do if he burned out.

The wonderful trip down a very lovely cliff made sure of that.

"There are downsides, but I'm fine."

The twins continue to scan him up and down dubiously,

"If you say so."

"But we're definitely dragging you places so you don't literally run yourself into the ground. We should go out for dinner on the weekend." Katsuro continues firmly, "A new dumpling place just opened up on Tanburuu, I heard it's pretty good."

Katsuo pumps his fist happily,

"Yeah! Let's go there. Okaa-sama wouldn't mind, she wants us to be more independent anyway."

Sasori pauses, a memory floating to the surface of his consciousness,

"_We're getting dumplings for lunch, smaller minion! I already told Ebizō-sama, so hurry up!"_

"_Dumplings are not lunch material, Harue-sensei! They're snacks!"_

"_Hn."_

"_See? Isago agrees with me!"_

"_Small minion and smaller minion, your opinions are waived. We're getting dumplings~!"_

But both of them aren't here now, instead, they're on the frontlines fighting a war headed by players sitting on thrones of corpses. Perhaps it is from his distaste for his kage, but there are no good intentions in this war, only selfish needs. And who can say that the kage are wrong? They fight this war for their people to have better lives, but first, the people must suffer under the onslaught of death.

This is what it means to be human.

There is no true peace. No forever.

No eternity.

And yet, there are people who will give everything just so they can _try_. People who are optimists in a world where the most popular profession has you dead by twenty. Sasori can say that he has a respect for those people, but he can't bring himself to be as hopeful.

He doesn't ask for much. He doesn't _need _much. He just wants those precious to him to survive.

But that isn't what is asked of him now, is it? The twins gaze at him expectantly, eyes still innocent and ignorant of the world.

Sasori swallows the bitter taste left in his mouth and cracks a plastic smile,

"Sure, why not? Does Saturday sound good to you?"

"Saturday it is then." Katsuo stands up as well.

Only Katsuro remains sitting, frowning at Sasori,

"It's okay to not be okay, you know? That's what friends are for!"

_Ah, I suppose he is right. Perhaps...I should be less guarded. Not everyone is out to make sure I fail, Suna indoctrinates its soldiers to be loyal early. As long as I play my part, no one will question my loyalty or betray me._

Katsuo's face falls,

"Yeah, if the war continues to have such high death tolls, Okaa-sama will definitely have to fight. There are already people in the clan talking about who s-should r-replace her if s-she…"

Katsuro hugs his brother, also solemn,

"Yeah, we're not old enough to take over. So Otou-sama might have to...and he's not in the best health right now. The First War wasn't kind to him."

"Are you three done?" Asano-sensei questions sharply, but his eyes held no real heat. He probably overheard the conversation, the war is wearing on everyone.

"Hai, sensei," Sasori responds for the three of them. He's the one that's actually an adult, the other two a children who shouldn't have to worry about the impending deployment of their parents and loved ones. They're six, _six_ is too young to begin training to be a soldier.

"Good, we're running fifty laps around the courtyard. You have lunch soon after this." Asano-sensei adds the last part as an incentive. It works, the faces around Sasori brighten and they begin running. Other than Sasori and the twins, all of their classmates are civilians who have had no previous training. No matter how prodigal a six-year-old may be, none of the others know how to pace themselves or run properly.

It doesn't take long after the first lap for those that broke out into a dead sprint to begin slowing down, holding their cramping sides and panting heavily.

Asano-sensei stops them and takes them to the side, explaining how to pace themselves and the importance of starting out slow. He's not that bad of a teacher, preferring to let his students fall before picking them up and explaining why they failed. Then he makes them do it all over again. While it isn't kind, Asano-sensei's teaching methods are certainly effective. No one makes the same mistake again unless they want to suffer.

Sasori runs beside the twins, listening to their conversation and occasionally adding his own input. They don't seem to mind his generally untalkative nature, holding up a one-sided conversation with little effort.

Suzume speeds past them, looking dead on her feet in their tenth lap. For a civilian, she has impressive mental endurance. Or stubbornness. She's the only one who doesn't listen to Asano-sensei's advice and continues sprinting. Sasori keeps an eye on her, wondering if he should try to stop her. He decides against it, people with her personality should be avoided, Sasori has no intention of being caught up in whatever grudge she has against the world. Suzume's on her sixteenth lap when her strides become more and more irregular, it looks like it might be her last one for the day.

True to Sasori's prediction, Suzume falls to her knees after stumbling to her seventeenth lap gasping desperately for air. It doesn't take long before she starts coughing as well, dry heaving in her fetal position. The trio wince in sympathy, while her drive is admirable, there is a difference between perseverance and pure stupidity. She glares at everyone passing her through the frustrated tears streaming down her face. Sasori sees Komushi stop running to try and help her but his hand is slapped away with anger.

Sasori pretends that Suzume isn't there as he begins his eleventh lap to avoid the discomfort. Asano-sensei is already berating her for not listening to his instructions, from the arguing that's getting louder, she's not being cooperative. He tries not to wince at the harsh tone his instructor has taken, hoping that Suzume won't decide to use him for venting her frustrations later. Sasori makes a conspicuous target, being already labeled as a prodigy.

_Please, I don't need even more drama on the first day. I'm just a normal classmate, don't focus on me._

Sasori snorts.

_Normal classmate? Yeah, how about no? My best bet is advancing and joining a different class._

"I feel bad for her, she's trying so hard to be the best so she can be Kazekage someday," Komushi remarks sadly as he trots up to the trio. Sasori gives him a brief glance but doesn't bother to respond. Komushi is too kind for his own good. While his thoughts on the boy are confusing, Sasori tells himself that it really isn't a rational decision to avoid something that hasn't even happened.

Which is what he's _trying _to convince himself of, but it's not really working.

Katsuo snorts,

"Well, I think she has issues. Killing herself from overexertion isn't going to make her Kazekage, it's just going to make her dead."

"Katsuo, that isn't nice. Though I do have to agree that it's counterintuitive." Katsuro berates his brother.

"He isn't wrong, she can seriously kill herself with heart damage. Might even give herself a heart attack," Sasori inputs.

Komushi gives all three of them an incredulous look,

"If that's the case, there would be a lot more dead shinobi."

Sasori blinks at him,

"Yeah, there is a lot of dead and _stupid_ shinobi. Why else do you think Anbu have to work in shifts? So they don't wear themselves out too quickly. Besides, it's common sense. If you live another day, you get to serve another day. Dying helps no one unless it is a suicide mission."

The conversation falls into silence after that, Komushi hangs around a bit more before he falls behind. Katsuro offered to slow down for him, but the proposal was gratefully rejected. Komushi said that he didn't mind being left behind. So the three went on to finish their twentieth lap.

The rest of the class have already mostly given up and are walking the laps in groups. But the three of them are still running. The twins seem to be fine, albeit a little out of breath. When they hit their thirty-seventh lap, they start slowing down. Sasori is still mostly fine, he estimates that one lap around the village is probably way more than twenty laps around the courtyard. The village is large and the courtyard is probably a quarter of a mile. So fifty laps are about twelve and a half miles, his estimate was totally off.

Sasori frowns, he thought he was capable of simple math.

His normal route is about twelve miles an entire lap. But also the only reason why he's capable of three and a quarter laps is that after the first two laps he starts using chakra to keep himself together and by the end of it, he's completely running on fumes.

Still, that is over forty and a half miles.

That isn't even counting the extra laps he can run after slowing his pace down to wait for his chakra to come back. His stamina without chakra is decent, but he still expels more chakra than it is restored. Sasori hopes that by the time he is finished with the Academy, he would have gotten good enough to use his chakra at the same rate as if not lower than the rate it restores itself.

Sasori can't even begin to fathom why he's now capable of such a feat at the age of _six. _In his previous world, it would be impossible. However, here, it is completely natural. Maybe not _normal_ for a six-year-old, but not impossible. With chakra and genetics, the sheer insanity of what human limits are boggles his mind. Each village is tiny in comparison to the nation it resides in. The five largest countries...Sasori can't quite translate the enormity of the continent he resides on.

What if...there are other continents? What then?

Sasori pushes the idea away for further contemplation later. Maybe when he's older and can actually leave village walls, he'll go see if the existence of other continents is true.

While his impressive mileage is possible, it would definitely not be fine for someone to accomplish in a mere thirteen weeks. But Sasori's chakra is used to putting him back together at this point, so he doesn't have any lasting damage. At the fortieth lap, the twins look exhausted but since Sasori is still fine, the competitive spirit of children keep them going. At the forty-second lap, Sasori begins to trickle some chakra into his limbs and the damaged tissues in his lungs. His chakra obediently fixes him and mends the tears. He's more than happy to note that there isn't much to fix.

He is the only one that completes fifty laps running as the twins stopped at a sensible forty-six and walked the rest of the laps instead. While it is true that they only had four more laps to run, it was much smarter than the stunt that Suzume pulled. Sasori slows down after his fiftieth lap and walks with the twins, Komushi rejoins them.

"You actually _ran_ fifty laps," Komushi whisper shouts in disbelief, "And you were the one who said that Suzume shouldn't have overexerted herself!"

Katsuo pats Komushi on the shoulder comfortingly,

"Get used to it, Sasori probably outclasses all of us here. He's crazy enough to run over three laps around the village _every morning._"

"Around the _village?!_" Komushi makes a rather good impression of a teakettle, "Suna's perimeter is close to twenty miles!"

"Yeah, I don't think he's human at this point." Katsuro gives Sasori a sideways glance.

"The three of you are awful. The route I take is a little over half of that. Civilians aren't allowed near the village borders unless it is one of the Gates and that's only if they have permission."

Sasori reaches for his scroll and unseals a water bottle. He takes a few sips of it before passing it off to Komushi,

"Don't drink too much too quickly, you'll probably throw up."

Komushi stares down at the offered water—an olive branch and an apology—then back at Sasori before a slow grin makes its way across the boy's face,

"So you've decided not to hate me?"

Sasori turns away with a frown,

"I never hated you. Take it or I'm giving it to Katsuro."

Komushi doesn't respond but also drinks some of the water before passing it off to the twins.

Asano-sensei waves the class over after they finished cooling down,

"You can stop now since most of you won't be able to make fifty laps within the next hour. Since you're now awake...we can begin taijutsu practice."

The entire class groans, none of them are in the mood for more physical exertion after running.

But the Academy trains soldiers, not civilians, so the complaints are ignored as Asano-sensei begins showing them the various stances and kata for Suna's standard taijutsu. Sasori is already proficient at it due to the training he received from his great-uncle, but the twins displayed a completely different style.

"It's the clan one, Okaa-sama taught us a little," Katsuro explains when Sasori gives him a questioning glance.

Asano-sensei gives Sasori a once over before moving on to other students, pausing for a longer period of time with the twins, making them show him all of the forms. In the end, he recommended the twins practice their clan taijutsu at home as he isn't as familiar with it than the twins' clan members. However, since he can't help correct their technique, they should learn the standard style as a supplementary to their current taijutsu.

Sasori moves on autopilot as he goes through familiar motions, mind already miles away. He considers his day so far: not bad if a bit boring. Everything is going according to his plans, none of his classes are difficult, not even math. All of the students in his class had a basic understanding of math when they arrived, but they are six so the subject matter is restricted to multiplying and dividing two-digit numbers. While his math isn't great, it would be insulting if he couldn't do simple math after going to _college._ Otherwise, he is content with the variety of subjects the Academy offers, except for one thing.

There is barely anything on science, the only thing that comes close is how poisons work and chakra theory. Sasori can understand why it makes sense, because honestly, child soldiers don't have a use for understanding how plants grow unless they plan on being a poison specialist, Even so, it doesn't mean they have to touch a single poisonous plant in their entire career because—hey would you look at that, venomous animals exist. Not to mention, some mineral compounds are lethal. Maybe it's his bias towards biology, but Sasori feels cheated that science wasn't deemed important enough to be taught. Knowing about how cells function is vital for poisons! After all, most poisons, unless they relate to chakra in some manner, work by blocking vital metabolic processes like disrupting enzyme function.

Asano-sensei's light cuff to his head brings him out of his reverie,

"Stay focused, Shinkuri. The enemy won't care if you're off daydreaming."

"Sorry, sensei."

He really should focus more, he can't convince his sensei to put him in a more advanced class if he doesn't show them that he's capable. If he doesn't get advanced, he won't graduate early.

Which means Isago and Harue-sensei will have to fight alone which is _unacceptable._

Taijutsu practice doesn't take too long and it's afternoon lunch period where all of the students get a short thirty-minute break for food. Just enough time to finish eating. Or not finish if you're a slow eater. For those who literally inhale their food like Sasori—he's had _a lot _of practice due to his self-imposed training regimen—there is extra time to do other things. Like bribing upperclassmen for intel.

Komushi and the twins watch Sasori converse with other students, prying information from them.

"So what did you find out?" Katsuo asks from around a mouthful of rice.

Sasori gently grabs onto Katsuo's chin and pushes it up to shut his mouth,

"It's rude to talk with your mouth full."

Katsuo rolls his eyes but waits expectantly.

"So Suzume got sent to the nurse. She probably won't be back until classes are almost done. I also have blackmail on some of the instructors and a bunch of the students." Sasori remarks nonchalantly, unsealing a scroll on puppetry. Might as well study since he has time.

"The sensei of class A-2 is involved in an affair with the sensei of B-7, but she doesn't know that her so-called partner is already married," Sasori pulls a disgusted face, "I am in awe of her incompetence as a shinobi, how could she not know?"

"Seriously? Remind me to never get on your bad side." Komushi laughs uneasily.

Katsuro looks over Sasori's shoulder, unperturbed,

"Eh, shinobi are a strange lot, there's so much drama all the time. Hey Sasori, you're interested in puppetry?"

Katsuo also leans over,

"Woah, that's like, super complicated stuff."

"Not really, besides, I plan on specializing in it," Sasori elbows the two, "So move over and leave me to read in peace."

"You're such a nerd," Katsuo complains, leaning on the wall, "And here I thought Katsuro was overly obsessed with studying. What do you do all day?"

"Train," Sasori replies.

Katsuo sits up again quickly, placing his hands on both of Sasori's shoulders. He looks up, confused at the sudden unwarranted contact.

"Seriously? You read scrolls and run laps all day? What do you do for fun?"

Sasori tilts his head to the side,

"This is what I do for fun. I have lots of things I enjoy doing: fuinjutsu is interesting, puppetry is cool, and I like origami. Calligraphy is fun too. My Jii-sama trains me in taijutsu."

"T-that's...so..._boring. _Do you ever play?" Komushi gapes at him.

Sasori looks away,

"Not with people, no. I live in the Compound with Jii-sama and Grandma. I don't leave very often and when I do, it's to the market, the library, or Isago is dragging me off to train with Harue-sensei."

Better not mention the impromptu tea parties he holds with his marionettes and the other spiders he found in the Compound. One of his favorite books visited a tea party at some point.

His great-uncle finds his habit to be _amusing. _Which it isn't, he might not be British but that doesn't mean that he can't enjoy his tea.

"Isago? Harue? You trained with _them?!_ _How?_ They're like, _super famous_ for being—" Katsuo gives up and resorts to jerky hand motions to convey his incredulity.

"I ran into Isago, who introduced me to Harue-sensei," Sasori says absentmindedly, eyes back on the scroll, resolutely ignoring the worry he feels for his best friend and sensei. Talking about them makes him uncomfortable.

Katsuro seems to take the hint and muffles his brother's next statement with a hand. He shares a look with Komushi and they both go back to finishing their lunch. Katsuo squints and shifts his gaze between all three of them before shrugging and following his brother's lead.

They pass the lunch period in companionable silence without prying, much to Sasori's relief.

What happens after lunch is interesting, they stay in the courtyard. Asano-sensei had explained that this was when they had to decide on their specializations. Depending on what they chose, they would get to learn from different instructors. While the choice is not binding for the first years, it is permanent after the third year. Their first choice would be their main specialization. They get three other choices besides that to explore other fields.

Sasori already knows what he's going to choose. Students mill around him, listening to the explanation of instructors on different specializations. Sasori heads straight for the one on puppetry, putting his name on the list before wandering off to find other fields that he might want to learn from.

"That's the kid…" Someone not so subtly whispers behind him, "He didn't even hesitate."

"Idiotic if you ask me. Did you hear? He downed an entire vial of Higanbana without listening to the instructions first." Another person snorts derisively.

"Please, some people aren't capable of doing anything else but play with dolls."

Sasori ignores the whispering and makes a beeline for the Dokuhana twins, as expected, they signed up for a poison specialty. He does the same because it would compliment his puppetry. Not because he wants to stick together with the twins. Though it would be nice to have classes with people he knows.

He's also pretty sure they're already friends despite him not wanting to make any. It's only the first day and he somehow acquired three more people to add to his list of people he must obsessively hoard. Sasori is sure if he keeps getting new people to protect, eventually all of Suna will have to be protected.

Sasori wants none of that responsibility, _thank you very much._

It's enough to have his grandmother, great-uncle, best friend, and sensei without another three tagalongs.

_What would you do if someone murdered them in front of you right now~?_

He flinches, good mood evaporating and hands clenched into fists.

Well.

He got his answer.

Seven is a respectable amount of people to care for, he tries to convince himself.

Sasori shakes his head to clear it of bothersome thoughts and moves on, navigating through the throngs of students blocking every convenient route to where he wants to go. Since there is also a sign up for fuinjutsu, Sasori writes his name down for that as well once he finds the list. It wouldn't be the same without Harue-sensei, but it would be nice to learn more.

For his final selection, he is unsure. Should he go for infiltration? Or should he choose to learn medical ninjutsu?

Sasori can definitely see uses for both. Infiltration would have more uses in the future, but medical ninjutsu might just save his life if he manages to go through with his plan of being sent to the front lines.

"So, are you going to join us or what?" Katsuo wraps a skinny arm around his shoulders, "You should definitely choose medical ninjutsu, it'll help with poisons."

Sasori pokes at the arm that's slowly squeezing the life out of him,

"Please let go of me, I'll die of suffocation at this rate and then you'll have to explain the situation to Grandma."

"Katsuo, leave him be. It's his choice…" Katsuro pulls his brother off of Sasori, much to his relief. He glances back and forth between the brothers suspiciously, that whole sequence was entirely too smooth to not be suspicious.

Katsuo grins,

"Plan success!"

Sasori gives him a blank stare,

"What plan?"

"I was the distraction while Katsuro put your name on the list for medical ninjutsu," Katsuo cackles while Katsuro avoids making eye-contact with Sasori.

He's still awkwardly looking down at the suddenly fascinating ground,

"I'm sorry, we shouldn't have done that without asking yo—"

Sasori sighs and counts to ten mentally,

"It's fine, I don't really mind. I probably would have over analyzed the situation and given myself a headache."

The other two boys sport matching grins,

"Great, now you share two of the afternoon classes with us!"

It's creepy how the two manage to utter those words in sync with the same exact voice. Sasori is suddenly struck with the realization that he wouldn't be able to tell the twins apart if they didn't have different personalities and carried themselves differently. The idea is unsettling, but also it wouldn't really matter if he mixed up their identities, even if it would be embarrassing. Sasori gets the impression that they won't really mind.

"I'll see you two later then," Sasori turns away, eyes scanning for the instructor for puppetry and lightly jogging towards the woman. She has shoulder-length blue hair and matching eyes. Sasori doesn't bother to question unusual traits anymore, he has blood red hair himself so it isn't as if he can point fingers. He arrives just in time to hear her introduce herself.

"I'm Kazuyo Takahashi! You can call me Takahashi-sensei. Let's all get along now, hm?" She smiles, all sunshine and sparkles. Sasori shrinks away, wondering if the glitter is contagious.

_It better not be, glitter is the bane of my existence._

* * *

**Character Profile:**

Sasori Shinkuri

**Age**: Six

**Height**: 99 cm

**Weight**: 40 pounds

**Birthday**: November 8th/Scorpio

**Blood Type**: AB

**Likes**: His list of precious people, puppets, art, origami, reading, learning new things, succulents, poisons, fuinjutsu, explosions, quiet, paints, making absurd references that no one understands, sleep, etc.

**Dislikes**: Uncomfortable situations, conflict, being interrupted, people dying on him, the possibility of people dying on him, math, not being good enough, social interaction, the heat, people not appreciating his art, any and all insinuations that he is "high", pressure/stress, waiting, war (it goes with conflict and people dying), etc.

**Favorite Color**: Blue

**Least Favorite Color**: Green is not a creative color.

Favorite Food: He likes sweets. Not all of them, but will try new ones if introduced. (The same can not be said for other foods, he will never try sushi with raw fish no matter how much Isago tries to convince him) Beware of sugar highs...he's either hit with inspiration, becomes too hyperactive, or is impulsive. Harue finds the last two to be highly amusing, Isago not so much when he has to be the one who does damage control. Ebizō pretends that nothing is happening and Chiyo lectures Sasori when he finally stops bouncing off the walls.

**Least Favorite Food**: Seafood. Especially if any part of it is raw or have touched raw meat.

**Personality**: An introvert that prefers not to talk. When he does, there's a twenty percent chance that it is unintentionally abrasive or offensive. His sense of humor is questionable, usually dark, self-deprecating, and sarcastic. This is often used to disguise his own insecurities and apprehension. Sasori has a cynical world view, pessimistic about the inherent good of people. He's sometimes insecure in his abilities, often falling short of his own expectations. Sasori is rather vain, even though he's six, he takes entirely too much time on his appearance. He doesn't view himself as a good person, ambitious, but only so under pressure. Fiercely loyal to people he puts on his "list" and can be incredibly petty. He isn't fond of people in general, with exceptions. Sasori is easily distracted and isn't always good at staying on track, often leaving something half-finished to pursue another project. He takes pride in his artistic abilities, devoting many hours to his projects. Sometimes to the point of forgetting his own needs.

All in all, he's an adult who has to pretend to be a child trying to be adult getting thrown into a completely new environment where all his comfortable rules are scrapped. Oh, and there is a war happening.

Yay.

* * *

**I named a street Tumbleweed. In a _desert._**

**_*facepalm*_**

**Guest reviews:**

**Yup, Sasori is a Magnificent Bastard**

**I have ideas for what will happen when he tries controlling puppets with his chakra. (evil laughter, he still hasn't seen the horror of war yet)**

**Sasori left the village officially at around twenty (When he murdered the Sandaime Kazekage) In truth, he hadn't actually been in the village for a while (Years, but I'm not exactly sure how many) by that point, but since he had such a good relationship with the Sandaime, the Kazekage let it slide.**

**Orochimaru and Deidara? I have plans for the entire Akatsuki. Don't worry, they'll play a rather large role.**

**Yes, Isago is an elder brother. He has a younger brother. Like, an actual blood related younger brother. He'll get introduced later. (He's not an OC) As for your hypotheses of how his chakra can interact with his puppets. You are correct. It also has implications for the future. Like. Plot. **

**He'll start making puppets next chapter. As for what type, the type that explodes. Among other things.**

**He doesn't really have much time for developing his own poisons right now. That will begin to happen near the end of the current war.**

**The Academy arc will be short. I think. He's already way ahead of all the first years. People just don't know that yet. Well, not the full extent.**

**Yes, he does get a summon eventually. Can you guess what it is? (It's very fitting.)**

**His chakra gets a name next chapter. His horrible naming sense strikes again.**

**Eternal art? Well. The war puts things in perspective. Sasori sees _a lot_ of people die.**

**Thanks, I like writing unusual characters that aren't often done. No worries, I won't be abandoning this.**

**Thanks for reading! It's really complicated with putting links in chapters and I'll admit that I'm not good at it. However, I do have my discord link in my profile so you can go there. Since Sasori is older and in the Academy, I drew another cover. If anyone wants an anime recommendation, I've been watching Kimetsu no Yaiba. Long story short, Tanjiro's, the main character, sister gets turned into a demon and he goes on a quest as a demon slayer to change her back to a human. I feel like I should mention that demons in this universe are a cross between Tokyo Ghoul and vampires? The same penchant for human flesh with inhuman strength and abilities but with sunlight and wisteria as lethal weaknesses. (Frankly, wisteria flowers are prettier than garlic so I have no complaints.)**

**Mizu**


	16. Ayatsuri's Contemplation

**Okay, this is a really short chapter that's kinda off topic but I just had to add it in.**

* * *

_**It **_understands that _**it **_is abnormal for _**its **_kind. In the beginning, _**it **_was just like the rest.

Docile.

Asleep.

But then...one day everything changed, _**it **_isn't sure how or why, but suddenly the airy feeling that was always a part of _**it **_disappeared. In _**its **_own slow way, _**it **_realized that the disappearance signified the slow approach of death. Not death for _**it, **_of course, _**it **_would never truly die. Perhaps _**it **_would fade slowly and become a part of the vast universe, but _**it **_would never die.

_**It **_wasn't meant to be able to feel. And the barely-there sensations and ponderings that rippled through _**it **_weren't actually conscious thoughts, but more of the universe impressing facts upon _**it**_. _**It **_wasn't concerned when the shell that _**it **_occupied slowly became emptier and emptier.

Yet, that wasn't the end. It was supposed to have been the end, but it wasn't.

_**It **_had felt something leave the shell, something important. That something was replaced...by another something. Similar, but more aged than the something that had left. Aged and...more. Larger somehow, or maybe it was denser?

That was good, this something is stronger than the previous one, more desperate to stay. So desperate that it integrated itself into the shell without a second thought.

_**It **_welcomed the strange new something with open arms, or would have if _**it **_had arms. _**It **_had no opinions, no thoughts, or feelings. But with the arrival of this new something, _**it **_changed.

The shell was stabilized, _**it **_helped the new something as if the new something was the old something. The younger, lesser something. _**Its **_purpose is to help, to keep the shell alive and thriving.

In response, the new something turned its attention to _**it**_. _**It**_ was foreign to the new something, which would have been surprising to _**it**_ because all living things had some variation of _**it**_ but _**it**_ isn't capable of that yet. The new something woke the shell up and took the place of the old something. While that happened, _**it**_ bonded with the new something. The new something was strong, it made _**it**_ stronger too. Over the course of time, _**it **_became more aware, the new sensations were confusing. The ability to _feel_ those sensations was confusing. _**It**_ didn't know what to do, so _**it**_ went about _**its**_ normal routine, never deviating from _**its**_ flow through the many passages in the shell. Always in the same direction, gathering in the core before leaving again.

But even _**its**_ normal routine is disturbed when another it invades _**its**_ shell. When _**it**_ had begun calling the shell _**its**_, _**it **_didn't know. Thankfully, the other it left quickly, dispersing without any intent to focus it.

After that, the new something named _**it**_ chakra, or rather _**it**_ was already chakra but didn't know _**its**_ name. The new something tried to...get _**it**_ to do things, _**it**_ didn't understand so _**it**_ just kept reverting back to _**its**_ original flow. Didn't the new something know that _**it**_ needs to make sure to keep the shell they both inhabit alive? Sometimes, the new something was able to wrench pieces of _**it**_ away and out of the shell they shared. _**It **_always made sure to get those pieces back, though it was strange, being in multiple places at once. Outside of the shell was different, less protected by the new something and for the first time, _**it **_was afraid. But _**it**_ was grateful for the attention, _**it**_ can get bored sometimes because of the changes the new something caused. The new something didn't understand very well, often getting frustrated. So _**it**_ decided to show the new something that _**it**_ was there, _**it**_ is on the new something's side.

_**It**_ gathered _**itself**_ together and lurched once.

When the new something felt things, _**it**_ felt them too. _**It**_ wanted the new something to know that it wasn't alone, so _**it**_ began learning how to communicate with the new something. The best way _**it**_ had found was to do that was moving differently according to the new something's moods. Then one day the new something found out, the new something tried feeling different emotions to test _**it**_. _**It **_wasn't sure how to respond and accidentally hurt the shell, which also hurt the new something.

_**It **_felt...guilty.

But the new something wasn't mad at _**it**_ and went to find the other it that _**it**_ had come to recognize as an even more powerful and old something. There were two of those in _**its**_ new something's life. The new something called the two Jii-sama and Grandma, but also called them Chiyo and Ebizō inside where no other shells can hear. _**It**_ didn't understand the difference or importance of naming but the other two always called the new something Sasori. Sasori went to Jii-sama and Jii-sama fixed the shell with their own it. _**It**_ wanted to learn how to fix Sasori's shell quickly too.

Sasori acknowledged _**its**_ existence, positively.

_**It**_ couldn't be happier.

_**It**_ learned how much of _**it**_ the shell needed and how much of _**itself it**_ could spare, so Sasori could use _**it**_ for...strange things. If Sasori believed that these strange things were important, then who was _**it**_ to argue? Being outside of the shell that _**it**_ was told to be called a body was still strange, but Sasori was nice and it was fun too. _**It **_trusted Sasori, even if _**it**_ didn't..._**it**_ doesn't think that _**it**_ is capable of not trusting Sasori. Sasori is the most important thing to _**it**_, because he is nice, and safe, and always there.

So _**it**_ will do the same but in _**its**_ own unique way.

_**It**_ can't talk after all.

No matter how many times the shell must be put back together or made stronger, _**it**_ will always do _**its**_ part because, at the end of the day, _**it**_ can not survive without Sasori and vice versa. Nor would _**it**_ want to, living would be quite boring without Sasori.

* * *

**Well, that was a lot of "it"s. If you haven't figured it out yet, the bolded and italicized ones specifically refer to Sasori's chakra. The other ones are just there because of grammar.**

**Anyway a (short) chapter on life from Sasori's chakra's point of view and a bit more explanation on why it is what it is.**

**(As for why it keeps referring to Sasori as a new something, well, that's because his soul got yeeted into a new body, but it doesn't quite get that.)**

**Mizu**


	17. Artist's Advancement

Sasori follows Takahashi-sensei, bored. He isn't feeling sociable at the moment, so he doesn't try to strike up any conversations with the other children. Instead, he reaches inwards and gives his chakra the mental equivalent of a poke. It flares to life, curious and eager to know what he has to share.

_I still need to name you by the way. How does Ayatsuri sound?_

Two happy bounces.

_Do you even know what I'm actually saying?_

Two bounces.

_I thought this would be harder. The first kanji is misao, it means "manipulation". The second kanji doesn't serve much purpose except clarify the first… I think. Ri means "the" by itself anyways._

More bouncing.

_You realize I'm calling you a manipulator right? Ayatsuri can also be another way to say "puppet"._

Another affirmative.

_I know, I know. I'm not very creative. I've put off figuring out how to teach you to communicate for too long. Despite your constant "yes" ing, I still don't think you quite understand._

An affirmative.

_Yeah, you really don't get a thing._

He resists the urge to facepalm. Oddly enough, the ignorance of his own chakra is endearing.

_You really are like a puppy, you know that?_

Ayatsuri wobbles from side to side happily, giving the sensation of butterflies in his stomach. Which isn't unpleasant, but also makes him want to laugh. When it bounces, the feeling is more like what Sasori imagines corporeal happiness would feel like. But...bouncy.

His chakra is weird.

He is weird.

His life is weird.

_Everything _is weird.

_I'm just going to call you Tsuri for short because Ayatsuri is a mouthful._

He doesn't need to wait for two bounces for him to know that his chakra will agree. It agrees to every decision he makes. The only time it doesn't is when he makes a mistake.

Takahashi-sensei stops at a classroom and opens the door with a soft smile directed at her students,

"Come in, I hope that you have fun while you're here."

Sasori gives her a questioning look when he files inside with the rest. Does she really think that they're here to have fun? Well, it _is_ fun for Sasori. But it puppetry is still a deadly art that can leave the user dead or incapacitated if something backfires. It's more complex than pointing the sharp end of weapons at the enemy or aiming a jutsu in the proper direction. Even those two things can be difficult to do in the heat of battle.

"Since this is a mixed class, we will have people of all skill levels learning puppetry," Takahashi-sensei continues to smile serenely, "For some of you, this is your first year. For others, well, you've had more time to learn."

For him, he's been obsessing over it since the first day he woke up in a body that wasn't his own. Sasori knows that his stakes are higher in this. It's a point of pride and maybe his best chance at survival because he's competent at making things. And incompetent at other important aspects, like talking to people.

"How many of you know how to make a puppet?" Takahashi-sensei asks the class.

Sasori and a few more of the upper years raise their hands. He ignores the looks directed his way.

Takahashi-sensei claps her hands happily,

"Good! Now how many of you have actually made an entire puppet?"

He hasn't but with the amount of time he and his great-uncle spent on the subject, it shouldn't be difficult.

The other children notice his hand absent from those that are raised and snicker, dismissing him as another show-off.

Well.

If that doesn't irk him, Sasori is sure that he doesn't have a brain to feel emotions with.

Takahashi-sensei doesn't seem to mind and dismisses those that already know what they are supposed to be doing into the back room for supplies. As for those who have no idea, she takes them all into a corner and begins her explanation. Typical first day activities. Hopefully, she'll be more useful to him once she briefs the new people.

Sasori joins the group that's heading for the workshop.

_Hey, what do you think about us making our first puppet? We should do it from scratch instead of taking parts from the scrap bins._

Tsuri agrees.

_Do you think you can cut wood accurately?_

His chakra is still for a few moments before bringing up an impression of Ebizō. At least, that is what Sasori assumes it wants to say.

_What about Jii-sama?_

Disapproval, but not Tsuri's.

_Jii-sama would be disappointed?_

Talking.

That's...new, Tsuri can now do impressions of actions.

_He said something...oh! Yeah, he said it would take a lot of chakra and chakra control. But you should be more than up for the task...I think._

Tsuri does a twist that resembles its version of a shrug. Sasori simply tries to decide between different types of wood and which one he should use.

"Well, if it isn't the prodigy everyone is talking about," A voice from behind him drawls, "Personally, I just think you are a showoff."

Sasori decides that the pale one seems to be the most aesthetically pleasing, he takes an armful off the rack and looks for an empty work table. Who cares if it isn't the strongest wood out there? He has to start somewhere and there's always a con to every pro. Flexibility or durability? One can have both. But for strength and maneuverability, that is an entirely different matter. Stronger woods are usually dense, and dense wood is heavy. It doesn't take a genius to realize that no one can have all the good things in the world.

A hand waves in front of Sasori's face,

"You really must be pathetic if you're ignoring me. Come on, showing your true uselessness already?"

He sets his materials on the table and unfolds his scroll, unsealing his ideas on puppets.

_What do you think about this one? Lots of sharp pointy stuff. Perfect for stabbing annoying people._

Tsuri agrees, as usual.

_Alright, let's test my theory about making puppets with chakra._

"I'm growing tired of your inso—"

Chakra gathers at his hand, he allows it to seep into the wood, visualizing the desired shape. Tsuri follows his lead and starts shaving off fine curls. It starts out slow, but as it gains confidence, wood shavings start flying faster and faster until all that is left is a head piece. Sasori picks it up to examine it, using sandpaper to smooth any blemishes and errors.

_Not bad for our first try, hm? We can even add hair later!_

"I-impossible! W-what _are you?_"

The loud exclamation draws the attention of everyone else in the room and Sasori finally looks up.

"Oh, you know. Just another prodigy. Nothing special, really."

He smiles,

"Don't try to talk to me again, your voice is annoying."

Sasori returns to making his puppet parts while the room remains dead silent, slowly, the others go back to working on their projects.

_That went well._

Tsuri wiggles with disapproval.

_She wasn't nice to me, so why should I be nice to any of them?_

More wiggling.

_Fine, but you can't make me talk to any of them. I have work to do._

He spends the next hour making parts, remaking the legs five times because he couldn't get them right. Sasori discovers that hands are literally impossible with all of the small fiddly bits and everything he tries comes out a misshapen monstrosity.

_It doesn't have to have hands. It can just have...knives? It can have knives! Hands are not in style anyways._

If Tsuri could raise an eyebrow, Sasori is sure it would have. He cuts off his own rambling to save himself the embarrassment. He carefully fits the joints, together grateful that he found the right sized screws because the puppet he made was much smaller than he expected, almost his own diminutive height.

_Tada. Not bad for an hour work, no? I wonder where I can find the blades to attach to the limbs in place of hands and feet._

After fifteen minutes of searching, he couldn't find any sharp weapons in the entire workshop. Disappointed, he resigns to painting his new puppet with seals. Wracking his brain for ideas, he covers the entirety of the torso with explosive seals modified to only go off with the right chakra fluctuation, a trick he's proud of finally managing to perfect after many explosions and painful surprises later. The rest of the body is painted with storage and durability seals, the storage seals designed to launch its contents _forcibly_.

And then after all the ink dried, he goes over the entire puppet with paint, making sure not to disrupt any of the seals he'd already painted. Seals can be used and activated even obstructed as long as it isn't triggered by blood but with chakra. So essentially, if his idea works, no one will know that he put seals on the puppet until it starts blowing up in their face.

Forget the cake being a lie. The puppet is an illusion…? Can he make puppets that use genjutsu? Is it possible to create a seal that casts genjutsu, put it on a puppet and...use it?

More ideas to try, _wonderful_. He'll have to design the genjutsu seal in his own time. If Sasori has learned anything about fuinjutsu, it's that with it, anything is possible. Just look at Edo Tensei, bringing back the dead with a living sacrifice is completely within the realm of possibility.

He spends the remainder of his time meticulously painting the face of his first creation.

_I think she should be named Kiku, what do you think, Tsuri?_

His chakra happily concurs with the idea, like everything else he says because to Tsuri he's the one true savior of the world or something. Sasori shudders, he doesn't want anything to do with saving the world, it sounds like way too much effort for people he has no care for.

Sasori puts his paintbrush down, satisfied that his ability to paint people on canvases translated well to puppets. Kiku's face is forever stuck in childish bloom, mouth quirked in a half-smile and eyes happy. Just because she's an instrument of death and destruction doesn't mean she can't do it beautifully with a smile. Sasori plans on trying to follow her example, without the smiling because killing people isn't exactly something to be over the moon about.

Now all he needs to do is find some clothes for her and get some blades. Scratch that, many sharp pointy weapons that are good for shish-kebabing people are needed. Sasori is positively gleeful for five seconds before he realizes that painting over the seals might have been a bad idea.

Because he doesn't remember where he put them other than the general area. He eyes the torso apprehensively.

_I'm not about to blow myself up like a certain blonde idiot._

He sighs, here goes his precious time, figuring out where he put everything.

* * *

_I wonder if I should make her head explode as well. Kiku would literally be mind blown at my genius._

Sasori can _feel _Ayatsuri's childish disappointment in him.

_Okay, okay, I won't destroy the first puppet we ever created, happy?_

Phantom sensations of ecstatic lurching is his answer.

_Now let's go badger Takahashi-sensei for sharp stabby toys we can equip Kiku with. And some hair. Kiku needs hair. She needs clothes too._

Picking up his first creating, Sasori cheerfully walks to the door of the workshop, leaving behind his table to go find his sensei. Hopefully, she's finished talking to the new people at this point. If she isn't, then he'd be disappointed in her inability to be concise. Sasori slides open the worn door to step back into the classroom, many pairs of curious eyes look up at the sudden sound.

"Takahashi-sensei, I need help."

She looks up from where she'd been speaking to a student over a scroll. Sasori can vaguely recognize the diagrams on it as ones he read when first introduced to puppetry. Of course, Haha-ue and Chichi-ue's notes are far superior to whatever standard material is given to beginners.

"Yes, Sasori-kun?" Takahashi-sensei responds with a small smile, but her eyes flit between his mostly completed puppet and the wood shavings covering his body, "What do you need?"

_So she is competent. Observational skills are important, I should practice mine more._

"I need a lot of kunai, and shuriken, or senbon, maybe poison, sharp lethal weapons in general, hair, and clothes," Sasori rattles off the list he had in his head, mentally going over everything he needed.

Takahashi-sensei stands up,

"I'll be right back, okay, Suzume-chan? I just need to show Sasori-kun where we keep the live weapons."

Sasori blinks with surprise, Suzume was also interested in puppetry? So interested in it that she decided to specialize in it? He hadn't noticed her, caught up in his own thoughts at the time when he followed the rest of the students to this classroom. Even so, it isn't his concern, what she wants to do is her choice. He just needs to…

"Why does he _always_ get special treatment, huh?" Suzume questions angrily, hands clenching and wrinkling her papers dangerously.

...keep a low profile so she stays out of his way.

Well.

Takahashi-sensei seems surprised,

"He doesn't, what is wrong with showing him the storeroom?"

Suzume seethes,

"All of you people keep looking at him like he's something _special, _like everything he does is _perfect._"

The puppetry instructor frowns for the first time,

"Suzume, do you know who Sasori-kun is? He is the grandson of Chiyo-baasama. Not only that, he has shown himself to be capable beyond his years."

"Yeah? So what? He's just a dumb kid."

The room falls silent enough to hear a pin drop, Takahashi-sensei's face turns stony and the other students stop conversing with one another to watch the drama unfold. Sasori stands awkwardly, wondering if he should just ask his grandma.

_I asked for a nice, calm day. _

Sasori laments to Tsuri unhappily, it flares up, wrapping itself around his chest in a semblance of a hug.

The effect is unfortunate shortness of breath because constricting his lungs is a terrible idea. Nobody notices his mini spit take and coughing session, far too engrossed with the scene before them. Sasori sometimes forgets that his chakra is capable of inflicting great amounts of damage and he is _incapable _of avoiding it because it's _literally _his life force. Thankfully, Tsuri isn't purposefully harmful to him, for some reason it is extremely loyal to him. Maybe _because _it is literally his life force.

_What I get instead is this ridiculousness, does she realize we are the same age and calling me a dumb kid is so far off the mark her kunai might as well be in Kumo? Like, pot and kettle? It's not as if she knows that I'm not actually a child._

Tsuri does not attempt the failed hug again, settling for bouncing side to side in commiseration. At least, Sasori would like to believe so because it has been increasing in complexity in alarming rates. Suddenly, it isn't just one emotion or a couple of actions, now Tsuri is capable of grasping more difficult concepts and has a much wider array of ways to express itself.

"Bachi, jealousy is not a desirable trait for a shinobi, much less a young lady such as yourself. You will wait here while I leave for approximately two minutes and reconsider your actions," Takahashi-sensei speaks softly, "But first you will apologize to Sasori-kun."

Lip curled with disgust, Suzume turns her furious gaze to Sasori,

"Sorry."

It is obvious that she is anything but sorry, Sasori nods his head in acceptance all the same. The situation is far from over, he knows that it would be impossible to avoid further negative interactions with Suzume. He shares at least two classes with her, both of which take up the majority of his day. Needless to say, if the instructors don't offer to advance him to a different class, he's going to mutiny.

Sasori doesn't say a word as he follows behind Takahashi-sensei, the drone of voices picking up again as the order is restored.

* * *

"Here we are."

Sasori looks up gleefully at the rows and rows of different weapons sorted neatly by length.

"Be careful not to hurt yourself, the poisons are in that cabinet," Takahashi-sensei gives him a knowing look. Someone has been briefed about his Higanbana misadventure. He's not sure if he should trust the amount of confidence his instructors have in him. If anyone else his age were left unsupervised here, they might end up in the hospital. Which might be the point.

A test of responsibility and skill.

_A tall_ _order for someone who hasn't even finished their first day yet._

"Of course, Takahashi-sensei."

_Challenge accepted._

* * *

He comes out fifteen minutes later, smirking like a cat that murdered the poor canary and left its remains on his owner's pillow while they slept, dragging behind him four long blades. A few heads turn to gawk at him, but Sasori quickly hurries back to his worktable.

Which is...kind of graffitied. With adorable...hate messages.

Sasori sighs before plastering on a Harue-sensei tested and approved grin,

"Aww, you guys shouldn't have! I'm literally tempted to hug you all to _death._"

A few faces turn pale.

"No really, any volunteers?"

Unsurprisingly, there were no volunteers.

"Killjoys, though I'm a bit busy, so maybe next time."

With that, Sasori begins the task of attaching two feet blades to Kiku's limbs. He uses an excessive amount of glue bind the wood and metal together after inserting the blades into the new indentations Sasori created. He ties them together with wire for extra measure.

_Not the prettiest or the most polished, but not bad for a first try._

His answer is an excited affirmation.

_Now I just need hair...and clothes. Kiku's balder than a rock._

Sasori draws a new storage seal on the extra space he purposefully left in his scroll, allowing it to dry before sealing Kiku away. His first puppetry session had ended and he has another class to get to.

Fuinjutsu should be interesting.

* * *

As it turns out, fuinjutsu isn't interesting at all. Upon discovering his proficiency at seals, the instructor just gave him a bunch of scrolls to read. While Sasori is disappointed, he understands that his newest sensei has other students to teach. That and the scrolls are very fascinating, detailing more complicated scripts. Instead of teaching techniques, it speaks more to what each individual sigil means as well as their uses.

Meaning, if Sasori memorizes all this convoluted theoretical postulation, he should be able to make up his own seals and not have to rely on throwing together pieces of different seals that Harue-sensei taught him. Those usually don't end well, exhibit A being the pink seal.

Making his own seals is very high on his to-do list for preventing an unfortunate demise.

Maybe he should defect to Uzu after this and prevent it from being destroyed or something. But that would take effort and while he is fond of the depiction of Uzushio in literature, he's not sure if he actually wants to live there. Dealing with a clan full of people like Naruto or Kushina will drive him insane faster than an infinite amount of sugar.

Sasori has a war to fight, he doesn't need another one.

And very unfortunately, Suzume is also in this class. But this sensei definitely won't be doing much other than supplying him new scrolls to read so Sasori leaves before she can confront him again after inquiring when he should return. He locates a men's bathroom and shuts himself in a stall. There is no way Suzume will follow him in here.

So his time passes peacefully, undisturbed by unwanted circumstances. Sasori doesn't return to the classroom before going to his last class of the day, he'll give the scrolls back once he's finished with them.

* * *

"Sasori! Over here!" Katsuo waves his hand wildly from his seat next to Katsuro.

"How were your classes?" Inquires Katsuro after Sasori sat down next to Katsuo.

Sasori shrugs,

"It was boring. I made a puppet, read some scrolls, camped out in a bathroom to avoid more drama."

Katsuo latches onto the last bit excitedly,

"Drama, what drama?"

Sasori sighs and rests his head on the desk in front of him,

"People don't like geniuses. Suzume made a big deal of things. Other classmates were annoying. My poor worktable got harassed."

"That sounds awful," Katsuro frowns.

"No, not really. Just irritating." Sasori replies, voice slightly muffled.

Katsuo claps him on the shoulder,

"Yeah, well, you won't have to deal with them for much longer once people realize how awesome you are!"

"Thanks, but I think they're upset precisely because I am passably proficient at most subjects," Sasori says, sitting back upright because the instructor for the class walked in.

Katsuo gives an impressive sneer for a six-year-old,

"Tch, you're supposed to be my rival, did they expect you to be weak?"

His brother facepalms out of embarrassment,

"Katsuo, please stop. I thought you forgot about the whole 'rival' business."

"Not a chance!" Katsuo laughs at his twin's suffering.

Sasori tunes both of them out and focuses on the instructions his new sensei is writing on the board. Hase-sensei then proceeded to give a lengthy speech because all of them were beginners since medical ninjutsu is a new class that the Kazekage added this year. Despite its usefulness, medical ninjutsu is still regarded as a weaker skill.

To be completely honest, Sasori isn't interested in healing people. He's highly unlikely to become a medic. Taking this class served only to supplement what he already knows and to give him something to use in the case of an emergency. Dying of blood loss from a kunai stab wound is not on his list of things to try.

He is handed more scrolls to read along with the rest of the class, the kind that is suited for children who are not actually adults. Sasori resists the urge to complain and finishes them quickly before requesting for more...thought-provoking materials.

Hase-sensei quizzes him on the basics of healing chakra before deeming his understanding of the subject to be acceptable and giving him more scrolls to read. Sasori's days seem to be filled with nothing but reading. He sighs, typical of people who don't know what to do with him. Sasori isn't the only person who speeds through the reading, the twins finish before him. For a clan that boasts impressive poison immunities, a lot of focus is put on the human body. Which isn't surprising since most of the Dokuhana are poison specialists.

Sasori opens up the first scroll to find an anatomy chart, much to his delight and consternation, he has another boatload of complicated information to memorize. It's a wonder his brain hasn't exploded yet. Suzume is thankfully not in this class as well, or Sasori is sure that there would have been even more drama as quite a few students have a decent grasp on healing. And since she seems to get upset at people outperforming her…

Well, Sasori can give her the benefit of the doubt, maybe she is good at healing.

Probably not.

Most of the class comes from shinobi families, thus having been instilled with a respect for being capable of tending to their own injuries.

The second scroll is far more interesting than anything Sasori has been given all day, he's not sure if Hase-sensei actually meant to give it to him. It's a jutsu scroll, and since nobody is at the stage where they can reliably perform surgeries, Sasori definitely wasn't supposed to have this scroll. He abandons the anatomy charts.

Chakra scalpels are far more useful than knowing where the external iliac artery is located, there is no need for precision if they're used as a weapon.

_I wonder if I can adapt it to my own needs._

Tsuri bobbles ignorantly, not really concerned about its host's deliberations.

_Wait._

Tsuri freezes, giving off an air of curiosity.

_Chakra threads. But like, sharp because they're actually just stretchy versions of chakra scalpels. Like those whip swords from India that no one should ever learn how to use because you're more liable to kill yourself with it accidentally as well as the other person._

His chakra bounces happily.

_I'm not sure if death is something to be happy about._

It continues bouncing.

* * *

"Shinkuri." Sasori turns around at Asano-sensei's voice.

Seeing the man beckoning for him to come closer impatiently, Sasori gestures for the group to move forward,

"Go ahead without me, I'll see you three tomorrow."

"Okay, later," Katsuo continues moving with a shrug, dragging his brother with him.

Katsuro waves at him,

"Yup! Remember to drop by during the weekend, we'll introduce you to Okaa-sama!"

Komushi hesitates for a bit before waving goodbye as well, hurrying to catch up with the two that had already gone on ahead.

Sasori turns back to Asano-sensei, following after his instructor when the man starts walking,

"After assessing your capabilities, all of your instructors have agreed to move you up Class F-1. This will be your new classroom starting tomorrow."

He stares at the door in front of him, F is the letter assigned to the second to last year of the Academy. To think that he managed to impress the instructors enough to be moved so far ahead. Sasori had expected to be happy about the inevitable advancement, but right now all he can think of is that he won't know anyone in the class, even though he didn't really have time to get to know his previous class since it was the first day.

It would seem that he won't be able to keep his promise of meeting up with the twins and Komushi tomorrow after all.

"Thank you, sensei."

Asano-sensei snorts,

"Don't thank me, this is not a privilege."

Indeed it isn't.

But what does that matter when Sasori is one step closer to his goals?

_I wonder how I'm going to explain this one to Grandma, no doubt she will be displeased._

* * *

**Yay! New chapter. I have some of the pairings AU drabbles done, but I'm going to wait and post them all together. **

**So I'm back in school now, taking multiple AP classes and all Honors...which basically means I'm drowning in school work right now. As such, updates will become much slower as I get used to the flow of things. It might pick up again in the future, but no promises.**

**Also, since it will be much easier for me to use my school-issued computer, I will be using that for the most part. It has fanfiction blocked except for AO3, so I will be posting more often on AO3. I don't have IoM on there, but I'm debating on whether or not to post it on AO3 as well. Until further notice, IoM will probably be on a hiatus for a bit as well as CoM. **

**On the bright side, I do have some new fic ideas that I will try to post on AO3 as soon as possible.**

**For the people who may be freaking out at this point:**

_**I am not abandoning this or CoM.**_

_**Or the rewrite of Mother!**_

_**I'm just trying to streamline everything and get used to school.**_

**Anyway, thanks for sticking around and reading all that. If you have any questions or concerns, PMing me will probably get you a response a week later since I won't be able to check fanfiction very often. I would suggest sending me a message on discord because I have that on my phone and can give you a reply faster.**

**Thanks again, **

**Mizu**


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